


Wanted: One White Picket Life

by ArielSakura



Series: Wanted: [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Harry Potter, Corsetry, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Forced Marriage, Harry Potter Needs To Use Actual Words, Head Auror Harry Potter, Implied Mpreg, It's A Wizard Thing, M/M, Man of Letters Dean Winchester, Man of Letters Sam Winchester, Master of Death Harry Potter, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), No MACUSA, Sam Winchester Being an Idiot, Sam Winchester Needs to Think Before He Talks, Top Sam Winchester, because of, this wasn't supposed to be this long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29218545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura/pseuds/ArielSakura
Summary: When Harry runs into Dean and Sam on a hunt and fights for jurisdiction over the Dark Wizard they’ve both been hunting, he never thought things would turn out like this...ORHarry had thought Fate was finished fucking with him... He was wrong.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Sam Winchester
Series: Wanted: [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145258
Comments: 14
Kudos: 322





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlashAddict4Life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlashAddict4Life/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY/CHRISTMAS/WEDDING to my most wonderful, most beautiful, most amazing friend, SlashAddict4Life!!! You deserve all the nice things bb <3 I love you so much and I hope this fic is everything you wanted!!! <3
> 
> A big thanks to noxsoulmate for her help with idea's to fit Sam/Harry & Arranged Marriage. And a huge thanks to Q who kept kicking me up the butt to just.keep.typing.
> 
> NOTE: I have no idea **when** this takes place, just some time post Season 8 SPN and non-epilogue compliant for HP.

Harry pushed through the last vestiges of undergrowth and cursed the wizard he was chasing. Couldn’t he just apparate like a normal wicca? Harry could track his jumps then, instead of wrestling all the plant life in―well, whatever state they were in. 

Running into the clearing he was pulled up short by the sight of two men with their guns trained on his culprit. 

“Hey!” he called out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The shorter man swung around to face him, his gun expertly trained on Harry’s chest. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

“I’m Head Auror Potter, who are you and what are you doing with my suspect?” Harry shot back. 

“Suspect?” asked the taller man, shifting slightly as he tried to look at Harry and keep the shaking Yaxley in his sights.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shoving his hand beneath the collar of his robes and pulling out his badge. “Suspect.”

Stalking over to Yaxley, Harry pulled the magical suppression cuffs from his pocket and quickly and efficiently cuffed Yaxley’s hands behind his back. 

“You’ve done your dash, mate. The last hold out of the Death Eaters. Can’t say it was a pleasure.”

Yaxley spat. “Fuck you, Potter. The Dark Lord should have killed you long ago. He would have too if it weren’t for your filthy mudblood mother.”

“Finally,” Harry sighed. “Someone who gets that it wasn’t me.” 

Dropping his wand into his hand, he bound and gagged Yaxley before he could spew anymore of his bullshit and turned to the two who still had their guns pointed at him. 

Another flick of his wand and the guns began to disassemble themselves, falling to pieces on the ground. 

“What the _fuck?!_ ” cried the shorter man. 

“Oh, don’t whine. You can still put them back together. I didn’t break them. It’s just a dismantling charm.” Harry said. “Now, who are you?”

The taller man cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. Did you just… use magic?”

“Fuck.” Harry said, “I assumed you knew if you were hunting him. Some of you do.”

“Who?” Dean demanded, “Us who and know what?”

Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair. “About Wicca―”

“Oh, we know all about that,” Dean said darkly. “Demon deals and hex bags and―”

Harry snorted. “No, not that shit. About _true_ Wicca. Wiccankind. Look, I have to get him back to the Ministry. Here’s my card. I’ll call on you soon. In the meantime, don’t say a word of this to _anyone._ ” 

Sam gingerly took the card and looked it over. “Head Au-ror for the American Colonies?” he asked. 

Harry grimaced. “Yeah, Wicca… they’re kinda behind the times.” he grabbed Yaxley above the elbow and prepared to disapparate. “I’ll be in touch.”

“What the _fuck_.” Harry heard as he spun and pulled Yaxley along with him to the Ministry.


	2. Coming To Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a binding magical contract, a goblet, and Ministry involvement, how were things ever going to conspire otherwise?

Sam was sitting at the table in the Headquarters of the Men of Letters. On his side of the table sat Charlie, Dean, Castiel, and Bobby. On the other side sat the wizard Harry Potter, two more wizards, by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Ronald Weasley, and a witch named Hermione Granger.

“―and so, the Wiccangamot and the Ministry have agreed to the treaty on the premise that a marriage between one Hunter and one Wiccan is obtained within the year.” Minister Shacklebolt said. 

“ _What?!_ ” Dean exclaimed. “That’s barbaric!”

“We happen to agree,” Hermione interjected before Dean could start his rant. “But that’s Wicca for you.”

Ronald, call-me-Ron, sighed. “It’s the old fusspots on the Wize-Wiccangamot. They don’t see any need or benefit from this treaty. And they’re more than happy to place further restrictions on us to keep us separated from you lot.”

“Stricter measures would cripple our society,” Kingsley said, his low voice taking over smoothly. “They would cause resentment and bring back a hatred we have long fought to overcome.”

Sam watched as Harry’s jaw twitched and his hands curled into fists. 

“I won’t let that happen,” Harry said, his tone and demeanour set in firm resolution.

“So… what―” Bobby said, “You’ve put your hand up for this have you?” he asked Harry. 

“Actually,” Hermione interjected, “We’ve been able to enchant a goblet. The basic premise is that we each put names in, and the cup will assess and choose the most compatible match. At the very least it should ensure whoever is matched won’t be miserable. It looks at likes, personalities, common interests…”

“‘Mione,” Ron muttered at her, and Sam thought it was to head off a possible tangent. He had noticed over the treaty talks how she had been prone to them. 

“Right, yes. Well, we’ve put in all the names of single witches and wizards into the cup. And it’s why―”

“You asked us to bring a list of all the hunters bound under the Men of Letters and their marital status,” Sam said. He had wondered, but had assumed it was because they had wanted to know just how many people would be brought ‘into the know’.

“Yes. That’s right.” Hermoine said. “Do you have it?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Dean interrupted. “We haven’t agreed to this yet. You can’t just pull some names out of a hat―”

“Goblet,” said Ron helpfully, though Sam suspected he wasn’t really helping at all.

“―right, whatever, and expect them to _get married.”_

The Minister sighed and adjusted the headpiece he wore with some frustration Sam noted. “It is regrettable that it has come to this, but you must see that from our point of view it’s not unreasonable at all. Arranged marriages, betrothal contracts… are all still very real in our world. The muggle world may have moved on, but the Wiccan one hasn’t. It’s still the way things are settled. We have gone with the goblet suggestion as we thought with the right charms and wards, we would be able to arrange a match that would produce friendship at the least.”

Dean scrubbed his face and one look at Bobby told Sam he was in need of a stiff drink or three. Honestly, Sam felt that way himself.

“Can we see the types of spells you’ve used? What they do? Perhaps we can meet back in a little while and continue the discussion then.” he said diplomatically.

Hermione began to rustle in the small beaded bag she had placed on the table earlier and produced a sheaf of parchment. She handed it to Sam saying, “We thought you might want to see. I copied all the wording of the spells we used as well as a description of what they do. And what they should do when combined together.”

Sam took the thick stack from her, leafing through it to see well-organised and easy to follow notes. He nodded. “Thanks. Uh, Charlie?”

“Yeah, Sam?” 

He glanced up to see her looking at him expectantly. “Would you show these guys to the rooms we set up for them?” He turned back to their guests―and possible spouses he thought suddenly―and continued. “You uh, you’re welcome to wander in any rooms that aren’t locked. And the fridge is stocked if you want anything to eat or drink.”

“Thank you,” Minister Shacklebolt intoned. “That would indeed be welcome.”

“Got any pumpkin juice?” Ron asked. 

“Uh… no.” Sam said, eyes blinking fiercely in the face of such an odd question. 

Dean pushed back from the table and stalked off in the direction of a lounge room they had found. It would be more secure to discuss things there than in the open like this. Castiel followed him without a glance back at the table.

Sam sighed. “Excuse Castiel and my brother, Castiel’s... not used to groups and Dean’s just... an ass.”

Harry snorted and Sam’s eyes met his briefly and a flash of shared amusement passed between them. 

“Come on,” Charlie said, “I’ll show you around and you can settle in.”

Everyone stood from the table and Sam followed after Bobby, his face already buried in the notes Hermione had given him. 

Bobby opened the door and Sam entered just as Dean was yelling, “―it’s not a fucking _reasonable_ request Cas! People don’t _do_ that anymore!”

“Dean―” 

“No. Cas―”

Bobby cleared his throat loudly. “Something going on here boys?”

Sam looked up in time to catch the crestfallen expression on Cas’ face when Dean said, “Nothing. I’m gonna grab a beer. Anyone else?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam began to say, but Dean was already out the door. 

Dropping into a seat, Sam looked up at Bobby. “Well, what do we do?”

Bobby took off his hat and scratched his head. “We sit down and talk about it, I guess.”

Dean came back in with a few beers in his hands and handed one to all of them. He left another on the small table next to Charlie’s favourite chair and then fell into an armchair and glared at the wall broodily. 

They waited in silence for Charlie to finish with her little tour. The only sound was of the parchment rustling as Sam read through it all. Eventually, Charlie returned to them, bounding into the room, into the room and into her seat before retracing her steps as she forgot to shut the door. 

“Whoops,” she said, flopping back into her seat. “Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna tell them they can stic―”

“Dean.” Sam snapped. “We need them.”

“We don’t need them!” 

Sam inclined his head, “Alright, we don’t need them specifically, but their resources. Think of it, if all us hunters had those portkey things to get out of tight spots, or those balls of sunlight to help gank vamps. Even just those two things would be worth it.”

“Worth it. Worth spending your life with someone you don’t even _know?”_

Shrugging, Sam looked back at the papers in his hands. “These spells look like they’ll do what they said, no-one’s going to end up miserable.”

“So that makes it _okay?”_

Fed up with Dean’s attitude, Sam stood up. His brother copied him within a second. “No, it _doesn’t,_ Dean! But dammit! We agreed to this treaty in the first place for good reasons. Reasons that could save our lives and the lives of other hunters! Are we really gonna back out because of this one maybe-not-terrible thing? Do you _want_ to lose your memories?”

Dean’s jaw set deliberately and he sat back down. 

“We’re the Leaders of the American Men of Letters now. According to the Wicca, we’re the spokespersons for the entire Hunter community. We have a duty to them as much as ourselves.” Sam added, reminding Dean of just what was at stake here.

“From what they said,” Charlie said slowly, obviously unsure if she should butt in or not while the brothers were fighting, “they aren’t happy about this addition either. It’s because of their old oligarchical government that they have to do this too.”

“Oli-what-now?” Dean snapped. 

Bobby sighed. “It means that their government is pretty much run by old Lords and Ladies. Ancient, possibly noble, families that have been in power forever.”

Dean made a derisive noise. “Alright, but I don’t like this. And if we could vote, I’d vote no.”

“I know, Dean. But hopefully, it won’t be that bad.” Sam said, hoping those wouldn’t be the famous last words. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Sam left the room with a headache, they had been going over all the details again with a fine-tooth comb, just to make sure that nothing else had slipped in without their notice. 

He needed an aspirin. Or another beer. 

Heading for the kitchen, he drew up short at the sight of Harry standing over the stove, furiously grating something into a pot. 

“Uh, you alright in here?” Sam asked as he headed for the fridge. Beer first. 

Harry looked up, clearly startled by his presence. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I cook when I’m―” he flapped a hand to indicate something and Sam nodded. 

“I can understand that. Beer?”

Harry shook his head. “Not unless you want flowers to start spouting out of every nook and cranny.”

“Seriously?” Sam asked, coming to lean against the bench nearer to Harry. “Is that all Wicca?” 

“Nah, just me. I’m a ‘special’ case.” Harry said sarcastically, though there was something dark in his tone that piqued Sam’s interest. Even if he knew it meant not to press. “You need something?” 

Sam took a pull from his beer. “I just came out to grab a beer, maybe some aspirin.” He rubbed at his temples with one hand squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “We’re reviewing the treaty.”

“Probably a good idea,” Harry said, holding his hand out to his side for some reason. “I wouldn’t put it past one of those old sneaky bastards to slip something in.” He handed a phial to Sam. “Here, headache reliever.”

Sam took it gingerly. “Potion? It won’t turn me into a frog, will it? Make smoke come out my ears or something?”

Harry laughed. “Nah, not unless you’ve got a cold.”

Still somewhat hesitant, Sam popped the cork off the phial and went to take a cautious sniff. Only to have Harry’s hand cover the top quickly. 

“You want any chance of it staying down, don’t smell it. And chase it with your beer.”

With a searching look of Harry’s too vibrant eyes, Sam did as instructed. He tipped his head back and swallowed the potion, gagging slightly before he managed to take a few swallows of his beer. 

“What the hell is in that?!”

Harry rolled his lips together, silently laughing. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.” 

Sam gagged again. “Urgh.”

“Headache’s gone though right?” Harry asked. 

Taking stock, Sam had to admit that Harry was right. His headache _was_ gone, with none of the lingering tension or pain that was sometimes left behind even after medication. 

“So what is in that?” he asked again, as Harry took the phial back and tucked it in his pocket.

“You really wanna know? It’s not all plants and powdered moonstone left out in the sunlight for three days.”

“Try me,” Sam said, his eyes locking on Harry’s challengingly. He wondered about his choice when the corners of Harry’s lips curved into a smirk. 

“Bat spleens―”

Not so bad, Sam thought. 

“―Horklump juice―”

Whatever the hell that was. 

“―and Flobberworm mucus.”

Sam felt his eyebrows raise, but in an effort not to let Harry see he had successfully grossed him out, he said. “No wonder it felt so slimy.”

Harry snorted and turned back to his cooking, stirring the pot and glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eye. 

“I should get back in there,” Sam said with a sigh, the break had been nice.

“Here,” Harry said, pulling a tray from the oven. He cast a quick spell at it and then held it out to Sam. “Take these, might make it a bit easier to get through.”

“What’s in them?” Sam asked as he took hold of the surprisingly cool tray, “Love potions? Rat droppings?”

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed Sam out of the kitchen. “First, love potions are illegal. Second, they’re chocolate chips you heathen.”

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

All things considered, the treaty review went well. There had been no other surprises to find and it was all pretty straightforward, and they had all gathered in the main area again for dinner. 

Dinner, as it turned out, had been what Harry had been doing in the kitchen. Thick, chunky stew, followed by an apricot pie so sweet it even changed Dean’s sour disposition and he signed the treaty with a satisfied smile. The table was clear now, and the dishes were magically cleaning themselves in the kitchen. Thanks to a handy spell from Ron. 

“So, shall we get this over with?” Bobby finally asked. 

Hermione glanced at Kingsley who nodded and she reached into her little beaded bag once more and pulled out an enormously large chalice affixed to a silver base. 

Sam could see runes running all over it. Hermione tapped the goblet with her wand and instantly it lit up, purple flames leaping from the rim of the cup. Harry, Sam noticed, blanched and looked away from the sight.

Kingsley stood and held his hand over the flames, several pieces of paper fell from his fist. One after another they fell into the fire and it emitted golden sparks each time. Eventually, Kingsley sat back down Charlie rose, copying Kingsley’s motions with only a few nervous glances at the people around her. 

“Now what?” Dean asked as she sat back down. 

Hermione waved her wand over the chalice once, twice, and then sat back in her chair. “Now we wait. It will spit out the names when it’s ready. Hopefully, it won’t be too long.”

Twenty minutes was how long it took. Twenty, long, _long_ minutes. 

They passed the time idly, making small talk. Dean fetched more beer and eventually, they sat in silence as they waited. Through the silence, Sam found his gaze wandering to Harry, who had not once looked at the goblet since the flames had been lit. He had murmured something to Ron with a dark smile and then tipped his head back and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. 

Sam didn’t know how long he had been watching Harry, but suddenly there was a change in his energy and he snapped to attention, and his gaze focused on the goblet. Everyone else seemed to notice too, and as they all looked, the flames turned white and two pieces of paper were ejected from the flames with small popping sounds. 

They soared into the air and fluttered down toward the table. With an outstretched hand, Kingsley snatched them from the air and they waited with bated breath. 

“Dean Winchester―”

Oh, fuck, thought Sam. 

“―and Castiel.”

Silence met his statement and then…

“What? The cup screwed up. It’s not supposed to pull names from only one side!” Dean snapped.

Sam looked to his brother only to find him beet-red and so taut with tension he’d probably crack if you shook him.

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas said mildly, and the muscle in Dean’s jaw ticked upwards. “It probably read my grace and thought I belonged to them. It is remarkably similar. They, after all, were my father’s first design after angels.”

Sam looked around the table and thought he saw both relief and confusion written on Harry’s face. 

“Uh, can it… Can it choose again?” Sam asked, trying to draw the tension off of Dean. 

Kingsley looked at Hermione who nodded, and Sam noticed how Harry’s face clouded over once more. She waved her wand in that same pattern and they sat back to wait again. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to need as long the second time and the next pieces floated down towards them. 

Bobby was the one who caught them this time and he read them slowly, adjusted his ball cap, and said: “Sam Winchester and… Harry Potter.”

There was a thunk across the table and Sam saw Harry’s head on the wooden surface, banging gently. 

“I fucking hate goblets,” he said. 

Sam swallowed, well, this was getting off to a great start already he thought as he watched Ron pat Harry commiseratingly on the back. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

“Can I talk to you for a minute, Sam?” Dean bit out. Without waiting for an answer he stormed off in the direction of the kitchen. 

“S’cuse me,” Sam said to the table at large before following his brother. “Dean, what? You can’t just go storming off all the time.” Sam said as soon as he caught up.

“Oh, so you’d prefer to talk about this out there?” Dean snapped as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“Talk about what?”

Dean slammed the fridge shut. “About the fact you aren’t even gay?”

Sam sighed. “That’s… not going to be an issue, Dean.”

“Oh, you don’t think that’s going to be an issue?”

Steeling himself, Sam let out a loose breath and said, “No. Because I’m bi.”

There was a long, stunned silence until Dean finally reacted. “Bi. _You’re bi?”_

“Look, I know this might be a shock―”

“Oh, no. It’s not shocking at all. I mean, why would it be shocking that my baby brother never told me _that he likes dudes as well sometimes._ ” 

Sam threw his hands up. “Well, it’s not like you ever told me about your feelings for Cas!”

“My what about who?” 

“Oh, you’re not this dense! Come on, Dean!”

Dean glared at Sam, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t I?” Sam asked, “So I'm just imagining the lingering looks and worry, and how you always call him first?”

“Look, we’re not talking about Cas.” Dean snapped. “We’re talking about you and… and…”

“Harry.” 

“Yeah.”

Sam sighed and leant back against the counter. “He’s not all that bad, Dean. He’s a good guy. We seem to get along. It might not be as bad as you think.” 

Dean took a swig from his drink and glared at the wall next to Sam’s head. “You deserve more than this though, Sammy. I just want you to, you know… have love and happy ever after and whatnot.”

“I know. But Dean… After Jess… Madison… hell. Pick any of my past relationships… I just… don’t think that’s in the cards for me. And I don’t think I want it to be. I don’t… I don’t want to lose someone like that again… Maybe this is it. And… I think I’m alright with that.” 

Dean sighed. “Sam…”

“I know, Dean. But it’s my choice alright?”

Finally giving in, Dean nodded. “Alright. But you just say the word and I’ll do whatever it takes to get you out of it.”

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up, “I know you will.”

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Sam and Dean re-entered the main area to see that Bobby, Charlie, Kingsley and Harry had all disappeared. Only Cas, Ron and Hermione remained, and the conversation was stilted and awkward.

“Er, where is everyone?” Sam asked as Dean headed for his room. 

“Bobby said something about contacting some people. Charlie grabbed her laptop and is working on ‘something big’,” Cas said, lifting his hands to provide air quotes, “and Harry and Kingsley are flooting in the library.”

“Flooing,” Hermione corrected. “Kinglsey’s returning to the Ministry now that everything is signed. He’ll uh, return to preside over the wedding when you… um. Set a date.”

“Right, course,” Sam replied. “You’re all sticking around then? You two and… Harry?” 

Ron shrugged. “Harry’s our best mate. We’d never leave him stranded, and he wants to talk to you.”

Nodding, Sam looked toward the hallway that led to the library. 

“Take some tea, some proper tea. Not that wank you American’s pass off as tea.” Ron said as he stood to his full height, stretching his long limbs. Yawning, he clapped Sam on the shoulder as he said, “I’m for bed. Just remember, you hurt Harry and you’ll have to answer to Hermione.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “What? Not you?”

Ron chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t pass up a shot if there’s anything left once she’s done.” With that, he wandered down the hall whistling. 

Turning to eye the witch in question, Sam gulped as he took in her steady gaze and the soft, rhythmic tapping over her wand. He bid her a hasty goodnight and retreated to the kitchen to follow up on Ron’s suggestion of tea. He could use a reassuring cup of coffee right now. 

Preferably of the Irish kind. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

The flames in the floo had just faded to the usual gold and orange, and Harry had flopped into a seat after he locked the fireplace when Sam entered the library, bearing two cups in his hands. Harry watched as he came forward and held one out to him. 

“Tea?”

Harry eyed the cup warily. “It’s not been through the microwave has it?” he asked, remembering the first time Sam had made him tea. 

He had been beyond horrified as he watched Sam fill a mug with water, add milk and a teabag, and then place it in the microwave to heat up. 

Sam chuckled. “No, I used the kettle you brought. And the strainer.”

“Well, then, thank you,” Harry said as he took the cup, sipping gratefully he let out a small sigh as he found Sam had flavoured it just right with his preferred milk and sugar ratio. 

“You’re welcome,” Sam replied as he took a seat across from him. 

They sat quietly for a while, both simply watching the fireplace as they sipped from their respective cups. 

“So―”

“I guess―”

Harry huffed a laugh as they interrupted each other. 

“Marriage, huh?” Sam asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yup.”

“Got any ideas?”

“Merlin, no.” Harry groaned, letting his head fall back onto the couch. “Kingsley says it should be a wizarding ceremony. To make the old fuckers happy.”

Sam sipped his coffee before he answered. “Well, that wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, it’s not like I’m partial to anything.”

Harry lifted his head and looked over at Sam. “Wizarding ceremonies aren’t anything like you’re used to, there are certain requirements that need to be met in even the simplest of ceremonies. Or more specifically _after_ the ceremony.”

“What kind of things?”

Harry felt his cheeks start to burn and he cleared his throat. “Erm―consummation type things.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “But surely that’s usual? I mean, it is for our marriages at least…”

Taking a sip of tea to fortify himself, Harry drew on his inner strength and vowed to get the books from Hermione so Sam could read them. 

“Yeah, but erm. Wizarding ceremonies require uh―multiple consummations, it’s a fertility and bonding thing.”

“Multiple?” Sam asked, “As in?”

Harry nodded. “The uh, most common ceremonies, it’s uh, seven. Nights that is. Consecutively.”

“Why seven?”

“Because seven is the most magically powerful number,” Harry explained. 

“Really?” Sam asked, “How?”

Harry shrugged and went along with the tangent, “Because there are seven colours in the rainbow, seven continents, seven planets that affect both people and magic, seven musical notes, seven sins, seven days in a week, take your pick. It’s everywhere, and it’s stabilising.”

“Right, but uh, we don’t need the fertility stuff right? We could pick something else? Something shorter?”

Frowning, Harry shifted in his seat and stared assessingly at Sam. “Well,” he said slowly, “I suppose not… if you really don’t want to have kids.”

“I hadn’t really thought of it to be honest,” Sam replied, “not with this life, it seems like a fantasy, you know? The whole white picket fence thing? I mean, if we did decide to adopt or something, we still wouldn’t need the whole uh―consummation thing.”

“You want to adopt?”

“Well, yeah. I mean… if we did, wouldn’t you?”

Harry felt his jaw clench and he looked away. “Well, it’s not something we need to talk about now,” he said, knowing his tone was short. “When I said seven days was the most common, it’s not just because of seven being the most magical number. It’s because the others go for seven weeks or seven months.”

“Seven _MONTHS!”_ Sam exclaimed, “How do they… I mean…”

“Potions,” Harry said. “Lots of potions.”

Sam scrubbed his face. “Right, so we’d have to… for seven da―, uh, nights?”

Harry shrugged. “Unless you insist on a muggle wedding.”

“But that won’t look as good to your ministry?”

“Right.”

“And that’s who’s insisting on this in the first place.” Sam sighed and sat back in his chair. “When?”

“Within a year, but―”

“The sooner the better right?”

Harry didn’t say anything, but he knew Sam understood anyway. They sat in silence a while longer and soon Harry had finished his tea. He banished the cup to the kitchen and stood. 

“It’s been a day. Maybe we can talk about everything else later?”

“Everything else?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, you know, like living arrangements.”

Sam frowned. “You mean, we can’t just go on like we have been?”

Harry stood, to hide the hurt he felt at the statement. Sure he knew this was a political marriage, but he had thought that still meant they would act and _live_ as a married couple? 

Apparently not. 

“I’ll get Hermione to give you a book on wizarding ceremonies and customs. I’m sure you’ll find it interesting, even if it’s dry as dust. You can pick.”

With that, Harry left the room with thoughts only to harden his heart and keep his distance from his new soon to be husband. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Sam was a little bewildered by Harry’s abrupt exit but assumed that he was merely tired. It _had_ been a long emotionally wrought day as Harry had indicated. He was just getting up to put the grate in front of the fire when the library door opened once more. 

Hermione Granger stormed in and her curls seemed frizzier than usual. She had a small pile of books which she shoved into Sam’s arms as soon as she was close enough. 

“You get three strikes due to ignorance before I hex you.” she hissed. “You’ve already used one, so I suggest you read, and read _fast._ ”

“Wha―”

Hermione steamrolled over him as if she didn’t hear him, or didn’t intend to let him answer at least.

“Two things you should know about Harry: One, as arranged as this is, he still had hopes for it to be a real marriage. Or a real type of relationship at least. Two, all he has _ever_ wanted was a family of his own. Kids, a dog, the whole _white-picket-fence_ deal.” 

Obviously, Harry had relayed their conversation to Hermione, and something about it had upset her―and from the sounds of it, Harry―Sam felt he was missing some key information here. 

“What did he say to you?” 

“Oh, just that you don’t want to live together, that _if_ you want kids, it will be adoption, that from the sounds of it, you think this is just going to be some piece of paper that binds you two together and nothing else.”

“Well―”

Hermione snarled and jabbed a finger at the books. “Read. If you have questions, come and find me.”

With that, she stormed off and Sam swallowed down the sense of unease she left him with. He hoped to God he didn’t have questions. Looking down at the books in his hands, he thought he might have to track her down after all. Especially with titles like: _Everything, You Wanted To Know About Wizarding Pregnancy: But Were Too Afraid To Ask._

The cover even had a picture of a man gently cupping his swollen stomach. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Harry had successfully managed to avoid spending too much time around Sam for the first two days after the goblet incident. Part of it was that he had thrown himself into a case, and he suspected the other part was that Harry had seen Sam absorbed in a few books with moving covers. 

Obviously, Hermione had gotten to him. 

It seemed his luck was about to run out tonight however when Sam cornered him in the hallway.

“Harry, do you think we could talk?”

Knowing he really couldn’t put it off any longer, Harry nodded and followed Sam into a room he hadn’t been in before. It was obviously a study of some kind and from the looks of it, it was Sam’s.

Harry sat on one side of the couch, and Sam took the other, his hand clasped between his knees as he prepared himself to say something. 

“I’ve uh, been able to do some thinking over the last few days. And it occurs to me that I wasn’t really uh― thoughtful? I guess? When we were talking the other day. I barely wrapped my head around the fact that it was me, and well you, that would be doing this treaty thing… And I hadn’t even begun to process the logistics. And I think I said some things that weren’t really conducive to well…”

“A good marriage?” Harry supplied.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry too,” Harry said. “We probably should have taken a couple of days before talking about what it all means. For us at least. What we want.”

“Yeah, and I probably could have used those books Hermione gave me beforehand too,” Sam said wryly. 

“Yeah, probably. Shit, we’ve already made a hash of it, yeah?” Harry said with a soft snort. “Alright, so, what do you propose?” 

Sam sat back against the arm of the couch, turning himself so he faced Harry full on. “I think, maybe we lay out all the things we both want, see what matches up and see what we need to compromise on.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “but that would be too easy.”

Sam laughed and ducked his head. “Yeah. Probably.”

They shared a smile and just like that, Harry felt the easiness that had always existed between them before falling back into place. 

“So,” Sam said. “Uh, before we start I wanted to say that um, well, if you… I mean.” 

Harry watched with some amusement as he turned redder and redder by the second. 

Sam cleared his throat decisively. “Hermione gave me a book―”

“She wouldn’t be Hermione if she didn’t,” Harry quipped.

“It was uh, on pregnancy. Wizarding pregnancy. And I’m not saying we have to… or anything like that, I don’t want to set conditions or pressure you, but maybe―”

“Sam,” Harry interrupted gently. “If you’re saying one day you’d be open to talking about me getting pregnant. Then that’s alright with me. I’d just like to know that the discussion is on the table.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks. Yeah. That’s what I was trying to say. Badly, it seems.” He blew out a breath. “Alright, so other things… living arrangements? I can’t leave the US…”

“I don’t want to live in England,” Harry replied. “It’s too much. It’s why I accepted the position of Head Auror for the American Colonies. I have a townhouse in London that belonged to my godfather’s family and they were as Dark as they come. He hated it there. The only other property I own has become a fucking shrine. I’m happy to live here. But maybe we could look at doing a few things to the living quarters? Make them, erm―more liveable?”

“I don’t really know what you can do with these kinds of walls and materials, we uh, don’t have a lot of money either. But we could give it a go, I suppose.” Sam said. “Would you’d really be willing to live here?” 

Harry shrugged. “I’ve never really called any place home. This is as good a place as any. And changing stuff doesn’t really pose a problem when you have magic…”

“Huh, I guess not,” said Sam, a thoughtful tone to his voice. “Uh, I know Hermione said you don’t have an office or anything set up over here, and I already talked it over with Dean… if you wanted to, you could commandeer a few of the rooms here? There’s more than enough room in this place.”

Lips twitching, Harry smiled at Sam. “That would really be okay? Usually, we just work out of a field tent, but it would be nice to have a base.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we use them all, there are heaps of old rooms here. It’s all mostly living quarters. Remnants from days gone by, I guess. You could take over a few of those. Do what you like with them.”

“That would be really helpful. I can easily ward them so that any of my colleagues can’t come down to these levels. Wouldn’t even know about these levels if you want? If that would make Dean more comfortable with the possibility of having more wizards around?”

“It would,” Sam said with a rueful grin. “He can get pretty paranoid.”

“Well, with the life you both have lived, he has every right to be. Besides, this is your home. I don’t want to make it uncomfortable for you both.” 

“Our home now, I guess,” Sam said. “So it works both ways you know, you should be comfortable here too.”

Harry hummed in assent. “I guess money’s probably something else we should talk about?” he ventured, “I mean, joint assets and all that shite right?”

Sam sighed and sat back. “Yeah, I guess. Dean and I… we kinda live out each of others pockets? Charlie hooked us up with some inexhaustible credit cards. She’s a hacker. We have this place, and what’s inside it. We inherited a bit of stuff… But that’s about it. Hunting isn’t exactly a paid job.”

“What if it was?” Harry asked. “I mean, the American Auror department could always use more bodies. Most of the time, I’m rotating in rookies and they’re all so star-struck it’s annoying.”

“Star-struck?”

Harry flapped his hand. “A story for another day. But yeah, I could easily employ you both, Bobby and Charlie too.”

“Thanks for the offer… I’ll have to talk about it with Dean though, and maybe later? A bit too much too soon, you know?”

“Dean doesn’t exactly like change does he?” Harry asked. 

“That’s not―well, yeah. He doesn’t deal with change real well. But he’ll come around soon. So what about you? You know, money and all that,” Sam elaborated when Harry shot him a questioning look. 

“Oh, right, well, er―I have those two properties back in England. I could probably rent out Grimmauld Place, once it’s been thoroughly decursed and all. I’ve got well, a pretty decent inheritance from my family. They were old, pureblood you know?”

“No,” Sam shook his head, “no I don’t know.”

“Oh, um… old money? Like, old family bloodlines?”

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense. So, you’re rich?”

“Kinda,” Harry said. “Plus I’ve had a few inheritances too. From people who died in the war, or their families, because there was no-one left to take it. I draw a wage as Head Auror which isn’t insubstantial. I’ll have to write you into a few legal things and my account, I’m not really sure about all the business stuff, I’ve got Brokeshield looking into all that, I own a few businesses and I’m a silent partner to Ron’s older brothers. Fred and George, they own a joke shop and they do really well.”

“A joke shop? A magical joke shop?”

Harry nodded. 

“How?”

Shrugging, Harry explained how he had given Fred and George their start-up money and how they, in turn, drew up the business paper and named him their silent partner without him knowing. Until that day they started turning a profit and suddenly his trust vault was overflowing and he had to go into Gringotts and sort it out.

“―and so I ended up having to cancel my trust vault―I was emancipated anyway as it turns out―and fold it all into my main holdings. The junior goblins weren’t too impressed with me. Apparently, because of the spells they use, they can’t just merge the vaults magically and they had to cart all the gold by hand. And one of the junior goblins was almost singed by one of the dragons that guards the Potter vaults and―” He cut himself off when Sam raised a hand to stem the flow of his story. 

“Wait. Dragons? Goblins? Vaults? As in plural?”

“Well, yeah, there’s the monetary vault and a possessions vault. Goblins run our banking system, and certain magical creatures guard the older vaults.”

“Like dragons?” 

Harry nodded and they remained sitting in silence for a while until Sam cleared his throat. 

“Is there, uh, anything else you think?”

Chewing his lip, Harry threw caution to the wind and just went for it. “I know that one of the things the cup looked for was compatible sexuality… so I know our gender isn’t going to be an issue… and we’ve gotten along pretty well so far. I guess I’d like to try for a real relationship? You know the shared lives and ‘hey, honey, I’m home’―”

“―the whole white picket fence thing.” Sam finished for him. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

“This isn’t a white-picket life though, hunting isn’t a nine-to-five job. The things we both do on a daily basis... I never thought I could have that kind of relationship with the job we do.“

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing we both have the same job then right? And besides hours wise, it’s not any different than a healer or a policeman, or a firefighter. Anyone’s whose job is helping people. And we aren’t starting this relationship unknowing of the kind of dangers we put ourselves in. Without knowing the kinds of sacrifices this job entails. I was just hoping that maybe romantic happiness doesn’t _have_ to be one of the sacrifices.”

“We can’t exactly get divorced though if it ends badly. This is it for both of us.” Sam pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better to aim for friends and keep it that way?”

Harry sat back with a sigh. “Yeah, alright. You’re right.”

“Harry… I’m sorry. I just think it’s best―”

Holding up his hand, Harry smiled wanly. “I get it.”

Before anything more could be said, Hermione’s otter came bounding through the door. “Harry? You’re needed. Dennis found a nest. They’re feeding.”

“Shit,” Harry said, getting to his feet. 

“What is it?” Sam asked, following Harry out of the room and toward the library where they knew Hermione would be.

“Dennis Creevey, he’s a new recruit. A little wet behind the ears still and always trying to prove himself to his brother’s memory.”

“His memory?” 

“Colin died in the war,” Harry said grimly. “He was a muggleborn, and fifteen when he died. He shouldn’t have been there, he was underage and McGonagall had told them all to go but he stayed behind and fought. He died a hero protecting two Slytherin first-years who had been forcibly apparated onto the battlefield by their parents.”

Sam was silent and Harry knew it was because there was nothing he could say that would make any of it alright. 

“One day,” Sam said as they entered the library, “You’re going to have to tell me all about this war of yours.”

Harry looked at him and nodded. “One day.” he agreed. “What do you know, Hermione?” he asked sharply as they approached her.

“I’ve got coordinates and a portkeyed plane.” She said, holding up the folded paper plane between her fingertips. “All he said was that there’s a nest of fifteen or so, and they’re having a party.”

“Fuck,” Harry muttered. He held out his hand and summoned his Auror robes, they came whipping through the doorway from the bedroom he was using and he started to shrug into them. “What about Draco? Where’s he?” 

“Colin says captured, he was pretending to be a fangbanger, looking for a lead on what they thought was a lone vamp. Maybe two.” 

“Fucking, shit,” Harry swore as he did up the last of his chest straps. “Last thing I need is more ammunition for Lucius.”

Hermione nodded, “I know. I sent for Ron, but he and Seamus are deep in Lethifold territory. My Patronus might not get through in time.”

“Right. I shouldn’t need him anyway. But send him along in case―if he gets here.”

“I’ll go with you, Harry,” Sam interjected. “You can’t go alone into a nest of fifteen vamps.”

“I’ve been through far worse, Sam. I’ll be fine.” Harry said, “What are the coordinates, Hermione?”

“No.” Sam said, “I’m going with you. I just need two minutes. Okay? I’ll be right back.”

Before Harry could object, Sam was already out of the room. He turned to Hermione. “What are the chances of you giving me those numbers before he gets back?”

Hermione pretended to think for a moment. “Not good. I know you can handle yourself, Harry. But it might be good for Sam to see you work and vice versa. A little inter-agency cooperation.”

“Inter-agency cooperation, right.” Harry snorted. 

They didn’t have to wait long before Sam came back in with a weird-looking gun, Dean on his heels holding a wicked-looking blade made out a bone and some weird rock Harry couldn’t immediately identify. 

“Sammy said there’s some vamps having a party,” Dean said, a wide smile on his face. “How abouts we show them a real good time?”

Harry hid his resigned sigh and just held his hand out to Hermione for the coordinates. “Sounds like a plan.”

With a glance at the numbers, he grabbed ahold of Sam and Dean’s elbows and apparated away.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

“Whoa,” Dean’s voice came from his left as they landed. “That was…” Sam watched as he shook his head to clear it. 

“You’ll be fine in a second,” Harry said, his voice quiet. “Now, follow my lead. I want to head around the building, I can feel Dennis on the other side.”

Sam nodded and elbowed Dean in the ribs when he went to argue. 

“Fine. Your lead.” Dean whispered back. 

They crept around the building, being wary to duck under windows as they did. Sam managed to look through a crack in one wall to see three people strung up on the back wall. Two women, and a man with startlingly white hair for his age.

“Like freaking deer,” Dean muttered. 

Sam was inclined to agree. 

“Can we not mention deer?” Harry said. “I have enough nightmares as it is without adding those images.”

Dean gave Sam a bewildered look but they followed quickly after Harry as he disappeared behind a smaller shed. They rounded the back just in time to see someone appear out of thin air. 

“Harry, thank Merlin you’re―who are these guys?” 

“Dennis,” Harry said, “this is Sam and Dean Winchester. They're… back-up.”

“Back-up,” Dennis repeated, rather stupidly thought Sam. 

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t alright? Just fill me in.”

Suddenly Dennis was all business and Sam had to be slightly impressed with his succinct retelling of events. “Draco went to the club we were investigating. With the number of victims that were disappearing here, we thought it was only one vamp. Maybe two older ones.”

Out of the corner of Sam’s eye, he saw Harry nod. “They feed less as they get older. Go on.”

“I followed them, disillusioned myself, and they brought us back here. The plan was that I would surprise them, Draco would draw his wand and that would be that. Home in time for dinner. But they did something to Draco, shot him with something. I don’t know what and when we got here, _Homenun revelio_ said there were fifteen in there. Since I sent the message to Hermione, two more have arrived with another human.”

“Right, you did well calling me, Dennis. Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?”

Dean whispered harshly. “You did just hear what he said right? Seventeen vamps? That’s a fucking big nest and you say ‘let’s go’?”

Sam watched as Dennis looked more and more bewildered. “Dean right?” Dean nodded. “This is _Harry Potter_. We don’t need more of a plan.”

Harry sighed. “Look, Dean. Here’s the plan. I’ll get the vamps. You three work on getting the hostages loose, okay? Now let’s go.”

Sam and Dean exchanged alarmed looks before following after Harry and Dennis. 

“―do they not know who you are?”

“Shh, Dennis. This is not the place or time.”

“Sorry.”

They remained silent as they approached the back of the building, and Sam wondered what Harry had planned when he signalled for them to stay where they were. He stared at the wooden slats covering the back wall and then waved his wand in a serpentine pattern. The wooden boards began to glow faintly and then they collapsed into twisting heaving shapes and surged forward. It took Sam a moment to realise they were snakes and that Harry was hissing at them in an urgent tone. 

“Come on,” Dennis said, following Harry inside. “The snakes won’t hurt us.”

“Yeah, easy for him to say,” Dean muttered to Sam as he side-eyed a large python that kept pace with him as they eased inside. Sam snorted in return and kept the special gun the Men of Letters had created especially for vampires up and ready.

Once inside, Sam stopped. His eyes were drawn to Harry who had his arms spread wide and appeared to be holding the vampires at bay with some sort of spell. The snakes were coiled around the feet of the vampires, seemingly holding them in place. Harry looked over his shoulder toward him. 

“Get them out of here,” he said, jerking his head toward the captives. 

Quickly, Sam regained his senses and hurried to the farthest victim. The blond man. Taking his knife from his belt, Sam cut the man free and draped his body over his shoulder. He followed Dean out of the building and gave him the man once they were some distance away before running back to see if Harry needed help. 

He passed Dennis, and he stood in the hole Harry had created in the wall and watched as little balls of light began to glow in each vampire's chest. They struggled, cursing Harry and the snakes that bound them until the light enveloped them in a fiery blast. When the flames died out, there was nothing left but ash and charred ground. 

The snakes disappeared, clattering back to the ground as pieces of wood. With another slash of his wand, Harry produced fire and soon the whole building was beginning to burn. 

“That’s one powerful husband you got there, Sammy,” Dean murmured in his ear.

Sam was too dazed to do more than nod as Harry turned and caught them staring. He was beautiful, standing there completely nonplussed and not even out of breath. He had just destroyed an entire nest of vampires and there wasn’t even a hair out of place. Sam’s breath caught in his throat. Maybe… Just maybe...

“Come on, we should get these ladies back to town,” Harry said, interrupting his thoughts as he ushered them out before him. 

“Why’d you set it on fire?” Dean asked. 

“First rule of being an Auror, hell, of being a wizard. Leave no trace for muggles to track. Fire’s messy. But it’s good at cleaning up. Besides, the owner can claim it on insurance. If they really have need for an old abandoned building twenty miles out of town.”

Dean nodded and Sam watched as Harry crouched next to Dennis. 

“How’re they doing?” Harry asked. 

“They’ll be fine,” Dennis replied as he set a lolly wrapper of all things on their chests. “I’ve left them asleep. Erased any bits of knowledge about vampires, they’ll just think it was some bad people, that they managed to get free and hitched a ride back into town with someone passing through. The portkey will take them back to their homes.” 

Harry clapped Dennis on the shoulder. “And Draco?”

A groan met their ears and the blond man sat up. “Is fine. Don’t worry yourself over me, Potter.”

There was a familiarity in the way Draco spoke to Harry that Sam wasn’t sure of what to make, and it twisted unpleasantly in his gut. 

“You wish, Malfoy. Now come on. Go get yourself checked out. And then you can fill out four feet of parchment about _why_ we don’t use ourselves as bait.”

“You’re worse than McGonagall.” Draco spat. But he stood up nonetheless and sighed. “I deserve it I suppose.” 

Harry’s eyebrows rose and he folded his arms over his chest. “You deserve to be written up. But if I do that, then I have to deal with your father, and I don’t really want another lecture on ‘how-dare-you-let-my-Heir-get-involved-in-dangerous-situations’. Dennis here seems to at least be learning from his mistakes.”

Draco grimaced at the official tone Harry used and nodded contritely. Sam noted the pleased look Dennis wore as he whispered a spell beneath his breath and the two would-be victims disappeared. 

“Come on, Draco,” Dennis said cheerily, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll buy you a shot of Ogden's and then I’ll help you with that report.”

“Oh, sweet Circe. This is my punishment, isn’t it? You’re going to be insufferable for weeks now.” Draco groaned. 

Dennis beamed at him and they apparated away to leave only Harry, Dean and Sam standing next to the burning building. 

“Shall we?” Harry asked, extending his hands.

Dean sighed, rather petulantly Sam thought, as he took hold of Harry’s forearm. “I didn’t even get to behead anything.”

Harry chuckled as Sam took his other arm. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty more chances.”

The crushing, yanking sensation was back and soon they were standing in the library of the bunker once more.

“All done?” Hermione asked, not looking up from where she was taking notes on something. 

“All done.” Harry confirmed. 

Dean left the room, nodding to Sam as he sauntered off toward the kitchen. No doubt in search of something to eat. He always ate after a successful hunt. And Sam figured it would be no different even if they hadn’t been the ones who had technically done the hunting this time around. 

Hermione picked up her wand from the table in front of her and waved it vaguely in the air. “Patronus is cancelled. You can tell Ron when he gets back tomorrow.”

“Right. I’m gonna go crash.” Harry said with a yawn. 

“Big spell?” Hermione asked and Sam noted that this time she looked up to eye Harry critically.

Harry only shook his head. “Big day.”

“Alright. Night, Harry.” 

“Night, ‘Mione. Sam.” Harry said, directing a nod his way. 

Sam startled and his head dipped automatically in response. He stood watching silently as Harry left the room. 

“You alright?” Hermione asked. 

Sam turned to see she had placed her quill down on the parchment scroll in front of her and was watching him intently. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just―” Sam looked back toward the door for a moment. “The amount of power he used… and he acts like it’s not a big deal? Just how powerful is he? Are you? Witches and Wizards I mean?”

Hermione chewed her lip before she replied. “Harry is a great deal more powerful than the average Wicca. He has access to more reserves than us. A spell that would wipe us out for days barely affects him. It does have its downsides, however.”

Sam felt a frown crease his brow. “He said something to me once, about not being able to drink.”

Hermione laughed softly. “That’s one of them. I remember one time when he got a little drunk at the Burrow, Ron’s family home, flowers sprouted all over the place. And I do mean all over. There were rhododendrons growing out of the toilet.” 

“What else?” Sam asked. 

Hermione met his eyes searchingly for a moment. “What else, is really something you should discuss with Harry. Not me.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “That’s fair. Good night, Hermione.” 

He didn’t wait for her reply as he walked out of the room. Unerringly following Harry’s footsteps. There were so many things he wanted to ask. A lot of thoughts swirling in his mind. But only one that kept resurfacing. 

_the whole white picket fence thing_

His feet took him to Harry’s door and he was knocking before he realised. 

The door opened and Harry stood there, his Auror robes half undone as he blinked up at Sam. 

“Er, hey.” 

“Hey. Uh―can I come in?”

Harry stepped back, pulling the door open.

“Thanks.”

He looked around the sparse room as Harry shut the door behind him. “What can I do for you?”

Sam turned to face him. “I just uh―I just. I was thinking.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam looked down at the floor for a moment, stepping closer to Harry as he lifted his gaze to look Harry in the eyes. “I’m scared. Alright? I’m… terrified. Of―of losing someone to this life. Someone that I care about. I’ve lost my mom, my dad. My girlfriend. Lovers. My friends.” Sam felt his voice break. “All I’ve got is in this bunker and I’m scared to try. Because, if I do. If I―open myself up again and I lost that person… I don’t think I could come back from that.”

“Sam…” Harry said softly. 

“But you… You’re so strong. There’s not a person I know, dead or alive. That could have walked into what you did tonight and walk out again without even a scratch.”

Sam’s eyes roved all over Harry then. Trying to prove himself wrong. To see if maybe there really was something wrong with Harry. That he hadn’t walked out of that nest, that burning building, with nothing more than dust on his clothes. 

Harry closed the distance between them, his hand came up to cup Sam’s jaw gently and his thumb ghosted over his cheek. 

“I know the loss you’re talking about. I’ve lost people too. My parents. My godfathers. My mentor. My friends. One thing I’ve learned… Love is not something to fear. If we do… it leads us down a dark road. You’re right. This life isn’t easy. And it isn’t always safe. But that’s _why_ we need to grab onto every bit of potential happiness that we can. Because it gives us hope. And it gives us something to fight _for._ ”

Sam reached up and gripped Harry’s hand, holding it in place as they stared at each other, long moments went past as they stood there silently. Sam searched Harry’s eyes and found nothing there but understanding, and hope.

A peace settled over him and finally, Sam whispered into the space between them. 

“I wanna _try.”_

With those three words, all hesitancy between them was lost and Sam went willingly when Harry’s hand pulled him down for a kiss. He moved, pushing Harry back against the wall as their lips met urgently. 

He felt Harry’s arms wind around his neck and his own hands gripped Harry’s waist, lifting him instinctively up the wall to change the angle of the kiss. Almost devouring Harry in his sudden need. Harry’s legs wrapped around his waist and his lips parted at the press of Sam’s tongue. Someone groaned, Sam couldn’t have told you who, and they almost seemed to merge together. Fitted so tightly together against one another as Harry’s nose nudged against his and he shifted slightly to change the pace. 

The lights flickered and Sam instinctively drew back. “What―”

“No, don’t―” Harry said, pulling him back in, eager and pliant beneath Sam’s touch. 

Sam moaned lightly, focusing on the feel of Harry beneath his hands, the taste of him. The smell of Harry, the sharp almost sweet scent of ozone, and something sugary. Like syrup. 

The lights flickered again and Sam forced himself to pull away. His forehead falling against Harry’s as he caught his breath. There were several thumps around him and he looked to see many of the objects in Harry’s room were in places they hadn’t been before. 

“What the hell?”

Harry noisily sucked in some air. Gaining equilibrium as Sam met his eyes once.

“Sorry, sorry. That was my fault.”

“What was?” 

Harry caught his lip between his teeth for a moment and Sam tried hard not to focus on how swollen they looked. 

“The lights, my things floating. I lost a bit of control.”

“Of your magic?”

Harry nodded, “I wasn’t expecting to… well.” 

He swallowed and sought to get down, his legs falling from where they had been around Sam’s waist. Sam let him sink to the floor, but he refused to let go of Harry’s waist just yet. 

“Expecting to, what?”

Harry’s head fell back and thunked lightly against the wall. “I wasn’t expecting to react to you like that, you felt it too… right?”

Sam snorted lightly. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think that sexual compatibility is going to be a problem.”

Harry huffed, and then they were laughing softly together. 

“Is this going to happen every time?” Sam asked. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said a sudden sly look in his eye. “Maybe we should try again?”

Sam grinned and leant back down. 

As it turned out. It did happen again. And again. 

And again.


	3. The Terms Are Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam still needs to think before he speaks, but he gets it together, eventually. After Dean intervenes. And after the wedding, Harry has a few surprises for him.

A few weeks had gone by and everyone in the bunker had fallen into a bit of a routine. Harry had taken over some of the rooms behind the infirmary, modified the walls so there were only two entrances into them from inside the bunker. One went directly into his office, and the other into the infirmary in case of emergencies. Though he had spelled the main doorway in the infirmary that led to the bunker to be invisible to Wicca who didn’t know about it. 

He had been serious when he said he wanted to protect Sam and Dean’s privacy. 

The other rooms he had set up with desks and workstations for him and his team. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with all sorts of knowledge on demons, magical creatures, curses, and anything else that could be of use to an Auror. There was a lunchroom and a break room with a few beds set up bunk-style for those long cases. One room had been specifically set up with a floo connection and an entry through the apparition wards that encased the bunker, for those that were keyed into it. 

Harry was pretty pleased with the set-up overall and he was just leaning against his desk taking a quick breather to assess what still needed to be done when there was a knock on the door that led to the bunker. 

“Enter,” he called out, conjuring himself a glass of water as the handle turned. 

“Hey,” said Sam, “bad time?”

Harry shook his head and set the glass down on his desk. It vanished as soon as he let it go. “No, it’s fine. Just take a quick break. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to see how you were getting on in here. You’ve been working pretty hard, thought I’d see what you’ve been doing.” 

“Hermione’s muttering finally got to you, huh?” Harry said with a grin. Hermione, bless her, wasn’t a quiet researcher. She had a habit of reading information out loud to herself over and over as she searched for whatever it was she wanted. 

Sam grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. “How do you put up with it? I’d appreciate some tips.”

Harry laughed. “Sorry, but I use targeted silencing charms. Maybe some headphones?”

Sam looked disappointed. 

“If it’s any consolation, her office is almost done. Want the tour?” 

“Sure.”

“Well, this is my office.” he said gesturing around at the large desk, comfortable leather chair, shelving on the walls, and filing cabinets. “Not much yet, but that’ll change.”

“What’s this?” Sam asked, walking over to what appeared to be a large stained window with a map of the entire United States. 

Harry walked over to join him. “This is a tracking map. With the right spells, we can use it to search for hotspots, activity, track patterns.” 

He picked up a crystal that lay beside it and muttered a few words before placing it into a slot that was specifically designed to hold it. The map lit up within seconds. Little dots were spread out all over and even appeared in small clusters. 

“This for instance is the location of every werewolf in the States.”

“Every werewolf?” Sam asked, his eyebrows raising. 

Harry nodded. “Of course, it also means all the good ones too, we would never use a filter this general on it’s own normally. Each case is assigned multiple crystals and we use different filters to apply different things. For instance,” he grabbed another crystal, charmed it, and set it in the map, “Now it’s every werewolf aged between thirty and thirty-five.” Many of the dots disappeared and Harry tapped the crystal again, “And now male.” 

Almost half of the remaining dots disappeared. Harry flicked his wand at the map and it zoomed in on a particular town. 

“Of course it all depends on the kind of information we get as we track a case. If we weren’t sure of the creature doing it, we’d have to add in crystals for the other suspects too. It can be really helpful in narrowing our field of search, but it can also be just as useless depending on how much we know.” 

He tapped the crystal with the werewolf charm and added a few more. Suddenly, the county they had been viewing with there were only two dots flared with several dozen more. 

“What did you do?” Sam asked, leaning in to look more closely. 

“I added striga, vampires, shapeshifters, spirits, banshees, a few others.”

“Okay, I see what you mean. It’s still really useful though.” Sam said. “Is there any way Dean and I could use this?” 

Harry shrugged. “You wouldn’t be able to physically, because you couldn’t charm them yourselves, but I could talk to Hermione to see about trying to make a muggle friendly version? But I mean, I can always help. Or my secretary.”

“You have a secretary?” Sam asked, his eyebrow rising. 

Harry nodded. “Susan Bones. She’s really sweet. You’ll like her.” 

“Sweet, huh? When does she get here? To the States I mean?” 

“She’s already living in Salem. She married a Quadpot player a few years ago. She’s actually happy I’m moving our base of operations here because she won’t have to worry about the time differences anymore.” 

Sam looked at him quizzically. “What’s Quadpot?”

“Wicca sport. I’ll take you to a game sometime. It’s bizarre, I prefer Quidditch.”

“Right. So… what else have you done in here?”

Harry took the crystals out and cleansed them before he led Sam through to the main room. 

“That’ll be Susan’s desk.” He said, pointing at a large, very official-looking, reception desk. “And Hermione’s office is over there. Auror desks through there and an interrogation room at the end.” Harry said, pointing to an open doorway beside Hermione’s office. Through the door, he could make out four desks and designated areas for Aurors to work from. 

“Hey, aren’t we underground?” Sam asked, “How do you have a window?”

Harry glanced to where he was pointing. “Oh, that’s for owls and inter-office memos. It’s not really a window as such, it’s a small floo for messages. It’s just illusioned that way. You can charm the windows to reflect any scenery you want.”

“Huh, that’s... neat.” 

Harry smiled at him and finished showing Sam around. 

“I can’t believe how much space there is here.” Sam said, “I wouldn’t have thought there was _this_ much.”

“Perks of magic,” Harry said. “It’s called wizarding space. Where things are bigger on the inside than they appear.”

“Like on Dr Who.” 

Harry huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, a bit like that.”

“So what have you got left to do?” Sam asked.

“A space to securely lock things up. Not Wicca, they’ll all automatically be taken back to the main offices at the Ministry. But for things, armour, etc. Then it’s just a bit more furniture I suppose, some comfy chairs and such. More books. Things like that. I’d say this space will be operational within another day.” 

“This really is incredible. Is this what you meant by changing the living quarters with magic? Expanding them? Because actually being able to walk around my bed would be kind of cool. And I guess you’ll have your own stuff you’ll want to be able to fit in yours.” he mused.

Harry rolled his lips together, intent on not destroying the fragile thing that had been building between them since that first and only time they had kissed, and he nodded.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Harry said.

Walking back into his office he lifted a box of his active cases from the floor and began to file them by hand. Heavy footsteps on the wooden floor told him Sam had followed him into the room. 

“No, something’s up.” 

Harry sighed and shut the drawer. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I wasn’t aware we were…” Sam replied. 

“What I meant about the living quarters,” Harry began, “was maybe making them into something a couple could share. You know. _Our_ own space. But if you want to continue living in separate rooms, then yeah. I can magically expand them to make them more spacious too.”

“You… want to share a room with me?” 

_“Rooms.”_ Harry clarified. “You know, like our own bathroom, living area and TV and all of it. Our own―” he cut himself off. The thought of it sounded stupid and he didn’t want to look pathetic in front of Sam. 

Sam stepped toward him and Harry backed up, only stopping when he hit his desk. 

“Our own what?” Sam asked softly.

Harry noted that his hazel eyes glinted with more blue and gold lights when he seemed concerned. 

“Home,” Harry whispered. “I was kind of hoping that maybe we could build a home.”

Sam’s fingers brushed lightly against his jaw before they sunk into his hair and his forehead came to rest on Harry’s. His eyes slid shut and Harry copied him without thought. The soft breath Sam exhaled caressed his skin and Harry had to swallow past the sudden tightness in his throat. 

“For a long time now,” Sam began. “I haven’t thought a home was something I could have. So I gave up wanting it. Just as I gave up on the notion of love and marriage.” His head shifted, and his nose brushed against Harry’s. “And even when you said you wanted to move in here, to the bunker… I still didn’t think that was something that could be on the cards. Because what kind of home could this place be with its sterile rooms? But you...” 

Harry opened his eyes then, at Sam’s awed tone, only to see Sam staring at him, that same awe in his eyes. It should make him balk. Make him shy away from whatever this was. But it was different with Sam. Different from the way others would look at him. 

“You surprise me at every turn. Giving me things I never thought I could have and wondering _why_ these things don’t occur to me. Harry… I don’t mean to hurt you, I don’t _want_ to hurt you. I just didn’t think this was possible.”

“Think what was possible?” Harry asked, his voice soft to match Sam’s.

“Happiness,” Sam said bluntly. “You make me happy, and that’s not something I ever imagined for myself. Or what I expected out of this arrangement… but it’s true.”

Bated silence hung between them. Their breath mingled in the scant space and Harry could feel the charged atmosphere in the room. 

“Sam?” Harry murmured. 

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.” 

Sam’s hand tightened in his hair, and he closed the distance between them. His lips were warm as they pressed against Harry’s and Harry felt the weight of his tongue slide across his bottom lip. He opened his mouth and pushed himself into Sam’s embrace. His hands came up to grasp Sam’s arms and he had a fleeting thought as to how well they fit together. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Dean was sipping from his coffee when he saw Harry walk into the room beyond and sit by Sam. Curious, he moved to the door to watch them. In Dean’s opinion, Sam had been being an idiot lately. As it appeared to Dean, Harry had been trying to spend time with Sam, but his idiot brother had been turning him down in favour of research. 

“―thinking that maybe we could go for dinner?”

Sam barely looked up from his computer screen as he replied. “That’d be great, but I just ate an hour ago and I have all this work to do.”

Dean slapped himself in the face and shook his head. “Goddammit, Sammy,” he muttered. 

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later then.” Dean heard Harry say and he got up and left. He stalked from the room without a backward glance. 

Dean set his cup down and quietly walked up behind Sam, he smacked across the back of the head. 

“Ow! What was that for?” 

“You’re an idiot, you know that,” Dean said. “A real big idiot.”

“What?” Sam asked again.

“Idiot.” 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” 

With that last parting comment, Dean set off down the hall in search of Harry. It didn’t take him long, he just followed his ears. They led him to one of the training rooms, Harry was in there doing drills with a sword of all things. Dean leant against the doorframe and watched for a while as Harry cursed his way through a particularly complicated-looking set. Waiting until Harry let the sword droop for a moment as he wiped his brow.

“Wanna partner?” 

Harry looked up instantly, the sword tip raising for a moment until he spotted Dean. He didn’t let it bother him though, he just walked over to the wall and pulled another from the rack, testing its weight and the grip before swinging it experimentally.

“What?” Harry asked, eyes focused on Dean in a way that was just a little unnerving seeing as Dean knew what he could do with the flick of his hand. 

“Sparring partner, for practice, you know.”

“Erm―sure.”

Dean grinned and sauntered toward Harry, taking a position and lifting both his sword and his other hand. “Then enguard.”

Harry snorted. “That’s fencing, not sword-fighting. You sure you know what you’re doing with that thing?”

“Yeah. I think. I mean, stick them with the pointy end right?”

Harry snorted again and shook his head. “Alright, well. It’s your funeral.”

“Nah. You wouldn’t do that. I mean, what would you say to your new husband?”

Those seemed to be the magic words to get this thing started because Harry settled into his stance and signalled for Dean to attack. Obligingly, Dean did and man, did he regret it. Turns out, for such a little thing, Harry knew his way around a sword. 

They were barely trading blows, mostly what Dean did was try to get out the way as Harry swung at him. He didn’t think he was in trouble, he knew Harry wasn’t about to try anything fatal, but still. It was _work_. 

Sammy _so_ owed him.

A wheeze left Dean as Harry hooked his foot behind Dean’s ankle and he went down like a sack of bricks. Rolling out the way of Harry’s downswing, Dean got to his feet and they began again. 

“So,” Dean said as he parried one of Harry’s attacks, “I see you’ve been trying to get to know my brother.”

Harry only grunted in reply and Dean dodged another swipe. 

“Thing is, Sammy might be the brains in the family. But he’s also an idiot.”

“That so?” Harry asked, as he ducked and swept his blade at Dean’s feet. 

Dean leapt back quickly. “Yeah. I mean. I’d go so far to say that he has no idea you’ve actually been asking him out on dates.”

Harry faltered at that, and Dean tried to press the advantage but he was quickly rebuffed. 

“So, what? This where you tell me that I shouldn’t try? That this is all a mistake and we should call the whole thing off?”

The blows came a little faster then, and Dean had to concentrate. He saw an opening and despite Harry’s skill, he tried his luck. Within a second, Harry was disarmed and standing before him panting heavily. 

“Nah man,” Dean replied, throwing his own sword on the ground and sucking in a noisy breath. Damn, that was more of a workout then he thought. “Look, I know I’ve been a bit of dick.” 

One of Harry’s eyebrows raised sceptically. 

“Okay, a lot of a dick. But,” he said, stepping forward to make his point. “I actually think you guys would be alright together. I see the way you worry for him when we go out. And I see the way he is when you go do your Aurora thing. You might not be there yet… But I think maybe… you both could be good for each other.” 

“What are you saying, Dean?” Harry asked, his shoulder slumping as he sighed.

“I’m saying don’t give up on him just yet. Be… a bit more direct or something. Tell him what you want. He’ll dig it.”

“He’ll ‘dig it’?”

“Aw, come on, man. Don’t make me do this. I hate these chick flick moments.”

Harry snorted, but he actually smiled, so Dean counted it as a win. They were quiet for a few moments and then Harry blew out a long breath and met Dean’s eyes. And man, he knew they were green, but Harry’s eyes were like… luminescent. 

“Thanks, Dean,” Harry said, and the sincerity in his voice made him want to puke. 

“Yeah, man. No worries.”

Harry nodded. “You know, you’re not bad with that thing. You got lucky, but you’re not bad. If you ever want some training…”

“I know where to go. Thanks.”

With another curt nod, Harry waved his hand at the fallen swords and they flew back to their position on the walls. 

“I’m gonna shower. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yeah, I got it covered tonight. You go… do... whatever…”

Harry walked toward the door and paused for a moment, he looked over his shoulder and nodded at Dean. “Thanks again.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Dean watched as he left, and then headed back toward the kitchen. 

“SAM!” he called as he walked through the main room. “Come with me.”

He started grabbing things from the fridge and placing them on the bench, intent on making some freaking delicious burgers―he deserved them after this shit―for everyone. 

“What, Dean? What?” Sam asked as he came into the kitchen. 

You,” Dean started, pointing a knife at Sam for a moment before he started to slice the onion. “Are an idiot and you need to pull your head out of your ass. Well, your books at last.”

“This again? Dean…”

“No, Sammy. Shut up and listen. These past few days I’ve counted five times where Harry’s tried to ask you out. Count them. FIVE. And _you’ve_ always had some dumbass excuse. You told me the other day you two were making a go of things. That you thought this might actually be a shot for you. But if the look on Harry’s face was any indication, it might not be for much longer.”

“No, he hasn’t―” Sam broke off and Dean took that to mean he’d realised it for himself. 

“Uhuh. Go fix it. I smoothed things over for you some. But it should’ve come from you man. Not me. Now go. Seduce your man or something. But be back here in half an hour. I’m making my babies, and they’re gonna be awesome.”

Sam ducked his head to hide a smile, but Dean wasn’t fooled. “Right, thanks, Dean. I owe you one.”

“Ya-huh. You sure do. I had to talk about feelings, Sam. _Feelings._ ” Dean shuddered. 

Sam slapped him on the shoulder and left Dean to make his burgers in peace. Leaning over the counter, he switched on the radio he kept sitting there for just this occasion and grinned when he heard a familiar tune. 

“Zeppelin, awesome.”

“Don’t you tire of the same song over and over?”

Dean whirled around to see Cas standing in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Hey, don’t you diss Zeppelin, man. Zeppelin’s the best. Now, sit down and shut up, or come and help me with these burgers.”

Cas nodded and removed his trenchcoat, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs, he rolled up his sleeves and came to stand next to Dean. 

“What do I need to do?”

Dean’s eyes lingered for a moment on Cas’ strong forearms before he shoved the lettuce at him. 

“Wash this for a start.”

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Harry was walking back into his room still damp from his shower. He had his towel slung over his head and he was scrubbing at it roughly to dry it. There was one time when he had used a drying charm on it, Only the once though, the resulting untameable fluff ball it had become deterred him from ever using magic near his hair again. 

Pushing open the door to his bedroom he drew up short to see Sam sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Er― hi.”

“Hey,” Sam replied. 

Harry turned to shut the door behind him and he set the bag that held his toiletries on the drawers beside it. The towel he still held went on a hook behind the door and unable to put it off any longer, he turned back to Sam. 

“So, uh. What did you need?”

“I wanted to talk to you. About going out with me tomorrow? We could just get away somewhere the two of us without all this,” he made a vague sort of gesture, “Hanging over us. Maybe talk a little.”

Harry moved to the desk across from Sam and leant against it, crossing his arms. 

“You sure you can do that? You’ve been pretty busy these past few days.” and try as he might, Harry couldn’t quite keep in all the hurt that wanted to bubble out of him. 

Sam tilted his head and looked at him, his eyes big and soft as he replied. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure. I’m sorry I’ve been busy. I’ve been a little preoccupied with looking up that stuff you told me to. I wanted to find the right one… and I think I might have.”

“Found what?” Harry could feel the frown on his face as he asked. 

“A... wedding ceremony. You asked me what one I would feel comfortable with… and well, I wanted to make sure I got it right.”

“Oh.” 

Harry was stunned. Taken completely by surprise at what exactly had been keeping Sam so busy, he didn’t know how to react and so he froze in place. 

“Yeah, it’s um. The _‘Sicut Nos’?”_ Sam said, turning to grab the book Harry hadn’t noticed beside him. 

Blindly, he took the book and looked at the page Sam had it opened to. The ritual described was simple. But stunningly beautiful in its simplicity. And the meaning… 

“Just us?” he said his voice nearly a whisper in the room. His heart pounded in his chest at what Sam was silently telling him. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, and his voice was closer, Harry looked up to see him standing in front of him. “I know that with the way we were brought together… it probably doesn’t seem like the right one, but I want more than that now. I want this to be about _us_ , and not anything else.” His hand lifted to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Harry’s ear. “I think it should be.”

“Yes,” Harry replied in a rush. He took a breath to steady himself. “I mean, I think so too.”

Sam grinned and he leant down to seal his lips over Harry’s. Harry responded by throwing the book behind him and wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck. Sam’s hands wandered down his back to his hips, hoisting him onto the surface of the desk even as he deepened the kiss. At a better angle now, Harry pulled Sam into the space between his legs and his fingers wound through Sam’s hair, tightening as Sam’s tongue swept across his own. 

He let out a throaty moan just as the door opened and they were interrupted by a loud cry.

“Jesus! Fuck!” Dean yelled, slapping his hand over his eyes. “Has anyone got any bleach?!”

“Dean! What’re you doing?” Sam asked. 

Dean replied, one hand still held firmly over his eyes as the other lifted the plate he had been holding. “I was bringing you dinner, thought you guys could use some time alone.” One finger slipped to reveal Dean’s cheeky gaze, “I didn’t realise _this_ was the kind of alone time you two needed.”

“Dean,” Sam sounded exasperated to Harry’s ears, “get out, man.”

“Gladly,” Dean said, dropping his hand fully and setting the plate on the chest of drawers. “Don’t do anything I would!” he said with a grin as he shut the door behind him.

Harry frowned consideringly. “Doesn’t he mean what he wouldn’t do?”

Sam snorted and turned back to face him. “No. Because there’s not a lot my brother wouldn’t do.”

“We don’t have to listen to him though right?” Harry asked, a smile tweaking at the corner of his lips. 

A slow smirk began to spread across Sam’s face. “I try not to.”

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

With the ceremony chosen, there really wasn’t any reason to delay further, and with July looming, the date had been easy to choose. And that was how Harry found himself on the east side of a grove of trees, on the seventh day of the seventh month as six-thirty at night, waiting for his cue to walk to where Sam would be waiting at the heart of the grove. 

The guest list was small. Ron, Hermione, The Weasley family, Andromeda and Teddy were all in attendance for Harry. Sam had Dean, Castiel, Bobby, and Charlie. 

Kingsley of course was presiding over the marriage as their bonder and acting as the Ministry official to witness their union.

He brushed his hands over his stomach, feeling the boning of the white corseted vest he wore. The material was silky smooth beneath his fingers, but the boning beneath it was firm and unyielding. It was an odd sensation, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure he would’ve chosen it for himself if he’d had a choice in his formal garb. He gave it an experimental tug.

“Stop fussing with it,” scolded Hermione gently, pulling his hands away from his waist and straightening the light over-robe he wore to sit more neatly. 

“Sorry, just… a corset?” 

“It’s traditional,” Hermione sniffed, at the archaic traditions more than how he looked. 

At least he hoped so. 

“Does it look alright though?” he asked again. “I mean…”

“Harry, it looks fine. You look good.”

“Really good,” added Ron. “I mean, if I wasn’t a hundred percent straight, you know…”

He trailed off with a suggestive wink and Harry laughed, grateful beyond belief for his best friends. They always knew what he needed and gave it willingly. He’d do anything for them and knew they felt the same. 

Hermione sniffed, and this time it was so vastly different from the one before that Harry’s head snapped around in time to see her wiping away a tear. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I told myself I wouldn’t… but…”

Harry folded her into a hug and she tucked her head onto his shoulder. He swayed with her gently for a moment before Ron joined them, his long arms wrapping around them both as he pulled them into his chest. 

“Now, ‘Mione,” he rumbled. “Just cause you wanted to get married first doesn’t mean you can steal Harry’s thunder.”

Hermione gave a watery laugh and Harry could feel the swat she awkwardly aimed at Ron’s chest. 

“Come on,” she said, pulling back and casting a charm at her face to clear it of any evidence that she had been crying, “we’ve got a wedding to attend. Now Harry, are you sure you need that hour and a half slot after the wedding? I can’t even imagine what you’re going to do with it.”

“Leave it, Hermione,” Harry replied for the umpteenth time. “It’s important alright? It’s personal, and I’m nervous enough, and I don’t want you talking me out of it. I’ll tell you tomorrow okay?”

Hermione huffed but acquiesced nonetheless. Kingsley’s lynx came padding through the trees and Harry flinched minutely when he saw it. Its form reminding him of the first time he saw it all those years ago. 

“It’s time. When you’re ready, Harry.”

Harry nodded, even though the Lynx wouldn’t be able to return his message and it vanished. 

“Well, better go I guess.”

“Wait, just a second mate.” Ron said, his hand gripping Harry’s elbow lightly. 

Waiting patiently for his friend to speak, he gave Ron his full attention. 

Ron fidgeted for a moment, and then pulled something from his pocket. “Sam asked me to do some research… this is the wedding band design your parents used.”

Harry took the rings hesitantly from Ron. Sam had asked Harry if he could be responsible for the rings, and Harry had agreed, not having any inclination or attachment to anything in particular. Slowly, he turned them over in his hands, eyes tracing the curling design of trailing lily flowers and antlers. 

Along the inside, there were three words inscribed. _‘Amor est fortis’._

Ron cleared his throat. “He said that the inscription is what was in his parents' rings. I’ve never been that good at Latin though.”

“Love is strong,” Harry murmured. 

The words resonated with what he had told Sam when they had agreed to try and Harry knew that Sam had chosen to do this for more than just honouring the parents' memories. He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and he smiled at Ron. 

“Thanks for doing this, Ron.” 

“Hey. You’re my brother, of course. Now come on, let’s go get you hitched.”

Harry nodded, and with that, they set off toward the specially grown circle of dogwood trees. Pushing through the flowering canopy, Harry didn’t let his step falter as he made the way to the stone altar and Sam. 

Sam stood outside the sacred circle of salt on the opposite side dressed in a pale blue suit, silver vest and white tie. Dean was stationed just behind him in a black suit, wearing a tie matching Sam’s colours.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded at Sam and they crossed the threshold together coming to stand beside the altar. He set the rings beside the bowl of blessing oil and the ribbon that would be their binding tool. 

He met Sam’s eyes and it seemed in that moment that their surroundings fell away. Sam smiled at him and held out his hands crossed at the wrists for Harry to take. He took them with a confidence he hadn’t felt before and was grateful for the warmth and solidity they provided. Sam’s thumb rubbed reassuringly over his hand and Harry squeezed back gently in return. 

Kingsley cleared his throat beside them and brought Harry back into the present, he picked up the bowl of oil and began to draw symbols first on Harry, and then on Sam. The oil was warm and Harry could feel the magic imbued with it. “I consecrate you in the name of magics and all their combined love, be here in peace, love, and honour.”

He then walked around them, drawing symbols into the salt with the oil before he placed the bowl back on the altar and turned to everyone gathered.

“Welcome and doubly welcome to you who come to this sacred place. We gather here to witness this joining of Lord Harry Potter, and representative of the Wicca Community, and Sam Winchester, Leader of the Men of Letters.” 

Harry had known this was coming, had even argued with Kingsley over the wording as both Sam and Dean were equal within the Men of Letters, but Kingsley had insisted it be worded this way since this marriage was supposed to be a peace treaty. He had also argued against the use of his formal title as he really didn’t use it except in Wiccangamot meetings. And he really had thought he’d told Sam, but from the way he mouthed ‘Lord?’ and raised an eyebrow, Harry guessed he had forgotten. 

He raised a shoulder and gave Sam a sheepish smile in return. 

“Magic, here stand two of your children. Witness now that which they have to declare.” Kingsley said, and he waved his wand in an intricate pattern, lighting the oil and salt symbols with a soft glow and invoking the magic that would bind their vows to them for the duration of the marriage. “Harry, what do you bring to this marriage?”

Harry licked his lips to wet them. “I bring hope, trust, and loyalty.”

“And Sam?” Kingsley asked. 

Sam cleared his throat briefly. “I bring understanding, openness, and integrity.”

Needing no prompting from Kingsley, Harry went on. “I bring empathy.”

“I bring affection,” Sam replied.

“Respect.”

“Honesty.”

“Compromise,” Harry added.

“Communication.” Sam said with a small smile, “and an open heart.”

Harry caught his breath for a moment at the addition and answered before Kinglsey could close the invocation. “A willing heart.”

Sam’s fingers tightened in his briefly and Kingsley murmured the words that would seal the invocation. The light flared for a long moment and then went out. Kingsley gathered up the ribbon from the altar and began to wind it around the arms, wrists and hands in an intricate pattern. 

“If you will now swear the oath you have chosen.”

And with a breath, Harry and Sam spoke as one. 

“We come into this Sacred Circle of our own free will, to join together as One in the eyes of magic and our gathered family. No longer will we be separate individuals, but rather two halves of one whole. Each of us incomplete without the other. For together we are one, we are _us_. Just us.”

Kingsley’s wand began to wave in a slow intricate pattern as he spoke the next invocation. 

“As the grass of the fields and the trees of the woods bend together under the pressures of the storm, so too must you both bend when the wind blows strong. But know that as quickly as the storm comes, so equally quickly may it leave. Yet will you both stand, strong in each other’s strength. As you give love, so will you receive love. As you give strength, so will you receive strength.  
Together you are one; apart you nothing. Know that no two people can be exactly alike. No more can any two people fit together perfect in every way. No matter how hard they may try. There will be times when it will seem hard to give and to love. It is no weakness to admit a wrong: more is it strength and a sign of learning. Ever love, help, and respect each other and then know truly that you are one in the eyes of magic. So mote it be.”

Kingsley’s wand touched the ribbon atop the joined hands and as their witness responded to the ritual phrase, the ribbon glowed with gold light and vanished. Kingsley took up the rings and held the first of them out to Sam. 

Sam, whose eyes had not left Harry’s for the entire ceremony so far, squeezed Harry’s hands gently and took the ring from Kingsley. He slid it slowly over Harry’s finger, not hesitating and pushing firmly when it caught briefly on Harry’s knuckle. 

Without prompting, Harry reached for the ring he knew Kingsley held out for him and it slid easily onto Sam’s ring finger.

That final action spurred something in Harry and he saw it flare in Sam’s eyes too, they didn’t need the prompt from Kingsley, or the cheer from their gathered friends and family, for they were already coming together. Reaching for one another with a searing kiss. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Afterwards, there was plenty of cake, and wine and good-natured teasing along with the well-wishes of the friends and family. It was with some regret that Harry pulled Sam down to speak softly in his ear. 

“I need you to come with me for a moment. And Dean too.”

Sam looked at him quizzically. “Why?”

“I have―a wedding gift for you both. And I can’t do it here.”

Sam’s brow was still furrowed, but he nodded anyway. They made their way over to Dean and Sam took his brother by the elbow. 

“Dean, can you come with us for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, snagging another of the puff pastries from a floating tray. “What’s up?”

“Harry’s got something for us.”

“Oh?” Dean asked around a mouthful of pastry. “What is it?”

“Just, come with me, and I’ll show you,” Harry said, despite knowing the brothers were now a bit on guard, he hoped that they trusted him enough to follow along for the moment. 

He led them through the trees to where a large hedge grew in a circle. Neville had helped Harry with it, though he hadn’t known the specifics of why Harry needed a speciality hedge grown of acacia trees, he also hadn’t pressed the point.

Harry led them through the opening to where a table and some chairs had been placed, and he waved his wand at the doorway, closing them in. 

“Look,” he said, quickly cutting Dean off before he could ask questions. “I have this gift… I can’t use it whenever I like because it draws on so much of my own power. It’s why I planted this circle, to help. But I wanted to do this for you, to give you both this time. You just, you can’t say anything to anyone about it. Please promise me you won’t tell _anyone_ that I can do this.”

“Harry... “ Sam began, “we don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”

“It’s not Dark. Or evil. Or anything of that nature. But if it was found out that I can do this… It would cripple my life. Our life.”

The brothers were silent for a moment, but then Dean spoke. “I want to see what it is before I promise you anything―”

“Dean…”

“No, Sammy, let me say this.” he turned back to Harry, “But if it’s like what you say. Then I won’t tell anyone.”

Harry nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”

Taking a deep breath, he looked down at his hands and de-glamoured the dark stone ring he wore on his right pointer finger. Sliding it off his hand, he closed his eyes and it turned it over three times.

Sam’s shocked gasp told him that it worked and he opened his eyes to see John and Mary Winchester standing there, completely solid. 

“I’ll leave you to explain,” he murmured to them and they nodded. 

“Thank you, son,” John replied. 

Harry nodded in return, sent a smile Sam’s way and walked through the hedge. It opened up around him and closed behind him. Conjuring a comfortable chair, he sat down, set a timer, and waited.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

“Mom? Dad?” Sam asked his shock colouring his voice. “How…?”

“That husband of yours,” John said. “He’s a powerful wizard, but the spell will only last an hour, or so he told us.”

“We better not waste any time then should we?” Mary said with a smile, and God, she was beautiful. 

His mom swept him into a hug and he was shocked to find she felt solid beneath his arms. Hesitantly, he hugged her back, his eyes meeting Dean’s over her shoulder and he knew the look he wore must be mirroring the shock on Dean’s face. 

“You’re real…” he said, “I mean… uh… corporeal.”

Mary drew back and turned to hug Dean as John continued to explain. Sam watched as Dean buried his face in their mom’s hair. 

“Like I said, your Harry is powerful. The trees help, and he used some runes too from what he told me.”

“Told you? How’d he tell you?”

John gestured to the table and they sat down, still waiting for Dean and Mary to join them. 

“He visited us, you know, up there. A quirk of his magic he said. He can travel to any soul that’s died. But he can’t bring anyone with him, and he can’t bring us back that same way. But he knew you’d have questions, and he wanted to prepare us for this visit with you here now. So, he stopped by like. Had a bloody cup of tea with us.”

Sam laughed weakly, unsure how else to react. He scrubbed his hands over his face and stared at the hedge. His eyes found the runes his father mentioned, he recognised some, but there were others he had no comprehension of.

“How have you been, son?” John asked. “Are you happy? Harry explained this marriage wasn’t exactly a choice.”

Sam felt more than saw Dean and his mom join them, but he nodded at his father. 

“Yes, sir. That’s right. But the more time we spend together as a couple, the more I think I would have made it anyway.” 

He and Dean began to tell their parents everything, filling them in on everything they had missed and just spending time talking with them. It was more than amazing, spending this time with them, with no pressure. No expectations. No purpose other than to sit and talk. 

Getting to know his mom, watching the way she interacted with their dad, the way she teased John and gently rebuked Dean for his language. It was incredible.

The time passed so quickly and soon, Sam felt his dad take his wrist to look at the time. 

“Time’s almost up boys,” John said, and Sam could hear the disappointment in his voice. 

“What? No. Really?” Dean asked. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mary said, “We’ll see each other again. Soon.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded, and Sam could hear the sudden tinge of fear in his tone. 

“Not what you think.” John quickly said. “Just that, apparently Harry can do this again on Halloween.”

“Halloween? Because of the veil? What about the Samhain demon? Isn’t that risky as hell?” Dean asked. “Because we already went to that dance and I’m really fond of not doing that again.”

A throat cleared nearby and Sam looked to see Harry standing there, his arms folded neatly across his chest. “It’s pronounced _sow-in_ and no. There’s no risk when you’re doing it properly. Despite what some lore says, Samhain isn’t a demon. It’s a celebration. Of harvest, of the end of summer. It’s about birthing a new year and a time to connect with past loved ones. It’s a night where you can lift back the veil between worlds and peek through. Communicate.”

“And you can do this again?” Sam asked, “Bring Mom and Dad back like this?”

Harry nodded. “I can. Most Wicca use other means to communicate with their loved ones, fire, water, crystals. But I can do this.”

Sam watched as Dean nodded and turned back to their parents. “Well, I guess that’s alright then. I’ll um… I’m gonna miss you guys though.”

“Yeah,” Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah me too. I can’t believe this. That we’ve been able to…”

John stood and he clasped Sam’s shoulder. “Yeah. I know, son. It’s been good.”

His mom came to stand by John, a smile on her face as she gazed at Sam and Dean. “I can’t believe how handsome you two boys are. I’m so proud of you both.” 

A lump rose in Sam’s throat and it was all he could do to nod in return as they became encompassed by a blinding light and faded from their world. He dashed at his eyes and coughed a little. Trying to regain his composure as he turned, he saw Dean grab Harry into a rough hug. 

He had to bite back a grin as he saw one of Harry’s hands lift to pat Dean awkwardly on the back and he shot Sam a wild look over Dean’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Dean said roughly. “Thank you.”

Just as suddenly as Dean grabbed Harry, he let him go and wavered at Sam. “I’m gonna go mingle,” he cleared his throat, “let you two lovebirds have a moment.”

With that parting comment, he strode toward the entrance Harry had left open and disappeared around the corner. With Dean gone, there was nothing left to hold them back and Sam swept Harry into a firm embrace. Kissing him with as much feeling and passion as he could. Finally, they parted, each panting for breath. 

“Harry… I don’t, I don’t even know how to thank you.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a deal? Harry you just gave me time with my parents. With my _mom._ I… I don’t even have the words to tell you how much this means to me.”

A wry smile pulled at the corner of Harry’s mouth. “I think I have some idea. Come on. We should get back.”

“In a minute,” Sam replied and he pulled Harry back into another kiss.

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

Harry and Sam left the ceremony site before everyone else. Leaving their guests in a good mood and a little more than tipsy, if the voracious wink Dean sent them and the half-drunk bottle of firewhiskey in Ron’s hands were any sort of indication. 

They walked back to the bunker in mostly comfortable silence. The only tension between them now was more of an anticipation of what was to come next. 

Sam took Harry’s hand in his as they walked down the stairs and they shared a charged look as they made their way toward the living quarters. Sam made to pull them to a stop beside his door, but Harry tugged him onward to the next door. His door. 

“I’ve uh, I set up something in my rooms,” Harry said quietly. 

“Another surprise?”

“Not one that’s as shocking, I promise,” Harry replied with a grin.

Sam smiled back. “Well, lead the way.”

Harry led them inside his quarters and lit the lights with a flick of his wrist. He was quite pleased with how the spells had come out for his rooms; turning the single dorm style room into a larger suite. His bed no longer dominated the space and there was room for a desk where he kept personal correspondence, as well as a plush rug that covered the floor. A small fireplace kept the room warm and he was able to hang his Firebolt on the wall. 

“Come on,” Harry said, moving across the room. “In here.”

He led Sam through a second door and into a bathroom. One he had hooked up with magical plumbing and styled off the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. Though nowhere near as big. 

“This is what you’ve been holed up in here for the last two days?” Sam asked as he looked around a little wide-eyed.

“Yeah, pretty much. I thought that maybe…” he trailed off, unsure how to voice his thoughts. 

“I get it,” Sam said softly, his eyes coming back to focus on him from where they had been trailing over the detailing in the sconces. “It’s better. More intimate than just some plain grey room.”

Harry nodded. That was it exactly. 

“Is that… is that a bubble bath?” Sam asked, his eyes locking on something behind Harry. 

“Er… yeah. I was thinking maybe…”

“It would be a good way to get comfortable?”

“You’re finishing my sentences already? What else was in that ritual?” Harry teased. 

Thankfully, Sam took it as the joke it was and he chuckled softly. “So… what now? Do we have candles? Champagne?”

Harry shrugged and pulled his wand from his sleeve. One conjuring spell, and a summoning charm later, and there were lit candles floating around the room and a bottle of firewhiskey from Harry’s desk sitting on the large tiled edge of the bath. 

“It’s not champagne, but it goes down better,” Harry said with a grin. 

“Good. I don’t really like champagne anyway." 

Harry fidgeted for a moment, laying his wand down alongside the bath for something to do. He felt Sam come up behind him, and his hands slid over Harry’s waist.

“So... we should get undressed, huh?” Sam asked, his voice a whisper in his ear. 

Harry jerked his head in an approximation of a nod. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Sam cleared his throat and Harry turned to face him at this hint of Sam’s nerves. 

“Do you think… I mean can I…” 

Sam gestured uselessly at his clothing and Harry’s eyebrows rose.

“You want to undress me?”

“Who’s the sentence finisher now?” Sam asked. 

Harry bit his lip to hide his smile somewhat, but he nodded―smoothly this time and Sam reached out to slide Harry’s over robe off his shoulders and down his arms. He hung it over a nearby stand and began to loosen the ties at the back. His fingers slid between the lacing and Harry felt the garment start to release. Inhaling slowly, he found he was able to get in a deeper breath than he had been all day. Trailing his fingers around to Harry’s front, Sam began to work the clasps that held Harry’s corset vest together.

“I, uh… really liked this vest,” Sam said quietly, his eyes darting up briefly as he unhooked the first clasp. 

“Yeah?”

The tips of his ears flushed red and Sam nodded, his hair falling into his face. 

“Yeah. I did.”

“I’ll, um… keep it in mind,” Harry said softly. 

The smile Sam gifted him with, and the accompanying heat in his eyes, had Harry mentally calculating the exact time in which it would take him to go back to that store in Salem and buy another. 

Or a dozen. 

It was strange how it was becoming harder to breathe even as Sam kept loosening the tightly bound garment. 

The clasps undone, Sam placed the vest with his robe and began to thread his fingers through Harry’s tie. Taking a cue, and pushing his straying thoughts to the side, Harry began the process of undressing Sam. First the jacket, then loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

Piece by piece, they slowly undressed one another. Harry leant back on the edge of the bath as Sam untied his shoes and pulled them from his feet. Peeling his socks off before he pinched the fabric of Harry’s trousers and waited for him to nod. 

Harry was left in nothing but his pants as he knelt before Sam, helping him out of the last of his garments and leaving him in nothing but a pair of tight black briefs. A sharp noise of inhalation drew his gaze and he could practically see the lust pooling in Sam’s eyes. 

Fighting a sudden reddening of his cheeks, he stood up and turned toward the bath. In one quick, fluid motion, he had shucked his pants and stepped into the bath. Sinking into the steaming water with a grateful sigh. Moving to give Sam space to get in, Harry procured two glasses from thin air and poured Sam a serve of the whiskey and filled his own glass with water. 

“You’re not―wait, flowers right?”

Harry smiled wryly. “That’s right.” 

“Maybe you should tell me all about that sometime.”

“Sometime.” Harry agreed.

Sinking into the bath a little further, he sighed in contentment as the heat seeped into his muscles. The bath was large enough that even with Sam’s long legs, they each had more than enough room to themselves. 

“You know,” came Sam’s voice, “I don’t think that I have ever had a bubble bath before.” 

Harry opened one eye.

“Life on the road doesn’t really lend itself to bubble baths. And even when I was at college... “ he paused for a moment, “we didn’t have a bath in our apartment, so I think this might actually be my first bubble bath.”

Sam picked up some of the dense foam and let it fall back into the water. 

“I’m not exactly a connoisseur myself, my own upbringing didn’t allow for one, and the first time I ever had one it was rather ruined by a pervy ghost.”

“Now that sounds like a story,” Sam grinned. 

Harry laughed and told him the story of Myrtle spying on him and others in the prefect's bathroom. “―and so there I was, all of fourteen and the bubbles were disappearing, and she was cosying up to me and she kept _giggling_. I think that might have been one of the first times I thought I was gay.”

Sam laughed and shook his head, his hair flopping gently into his eyes. 

“What about you?” Harry asked. “When did you realise you weren’t straight?”

“In college.” Sam replied easily. “Before then I’d never given any thought to it all, but there was this one guy that I’d see sometimes and we made out a few times at parties. But then I met Jess and I never explored it further.” He took a sip of his drink and set it to the side. “While, um, while Dean was away… I went to a few bars, watched plenty of skin flicks. But I’m still pretty new to this, you might need to take the reins here.” 

Harry steeled himself for a moment and then made his way across the bath, gliding softly through the water until he was close enough to reach out and touch Sam. 

“It’s nothing like those movies,” Harry said, with a wry smile on his face, “it’s so much better.”

He felt rather than saw Sam reach for him and he shuddered at the brush of fingers against his waist. Sam reeled him in and Harry let his hands glide over strongly muscled thighs before he moved to straddle Sam. 

Sam murmured as his lips brushed over Harry’s. “It’s already better.” 

With those words, he closed the distance between them and his tongue skimmed Harry’s lower lip. Surrendering himself with a tortured moan, Harry pressed himself against Sam. His hands slid over sinewed skin, stroking gently over every inch that he came across. There was something unlocked between them now. Unbidden passion flared between them and everything fell away, his thoughts, his insecurities, his nerves, the entire world narrowed to just the two of them. Here and now. 

Sam’s hands moved wantonly over Harry’s back and hips, gripping him with a bodily in a way that was both salacious and enticing. Harry felt himself growing firm, his blood rushing to fill a primal response. Groaning, Sam tugged on Harry’s hips, pulling him in closer so he could feel he wasn’t alone in his condition. 

Gasping into Sam’s mouth, Harry arched his back and ran his hand down Sam’s chest to take his cock in hand. Sam rumbled in his chest, and his hands tightened on Harry’s hips. Sam was firm beneath his palm, velvety to the touch and _big._ Like the rest of the Sam, his cock was long and well developed; and Harry felt himself clenching in anticipation. 

“Fuck, Sam,” Harry murmured against his mouth. 

“What?”

Harry shook his head and kissed him for an answer.

Sam’s hands grew bolder, moving further down to squeeze his arse. Drifting closer and closer to his crease. Harry shifted in his hands, spreading his legs a little further, silently inviting Sam to explore. A finger stroked between the flesh of his arse, and he groaned as the pad of Sam’s fingertip rubbed tentatively over his entrance. Emboldened, Sam pressed a little harder and began to rub against the sensitive flesh. 

His other hand trailed up Harry’s back, sending shivers along his body in its wake, to cup his jaw and tip his head to the side. Sam’s teeth grazed his neck and his hot tongue soothed his flesh. With a small whimper, Harry tightened his hand briefly around Sam’s cock and fumbled for his wand with his other hand. 

Several murmured words of Latin later and Harry was pressing back against Sam’s hand. The tip of his finger slid inside him and Harry’s breath hitched at the breach.

“Do we need―” Sam asked, trailing off as he pressed more kisses into the column of Harry’s throat. 

“Spell.” Harry managed to say. “There’s a spell. I cast it.”

“Already?” 

Harry nodded vigorously and pulled Sam’s face up and into a needy kiss. It was open-mouthed and heavy as he sank further onto Sam’s finger, gasping into Sam’s mouth. 

“Fuck.” Sam rasped. 

Harry barely managed a somewhat muffled noise in response and rolled his hips, encouraging Sam to continue. Sam complied, his finger beginning to move and push rhythmically. 

Steadying himself with one hand on Sam’s shoulder, he wrapped the other around both of them, keeping the pressure just firm enough to feel good but not so much that it would be enough. 

“Mmm, another,” Harry murmured a short while later. 

Sam pulled back. “You sure? You still feel tight, incredibly so.” 

Harry grinned at him. “Imagine what it’ll feel like around your cock then.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he seemed to freeze for a moment. 

“Come on, Sam,” Harry murmured against the corner of his mouth, “I know my body. Let me show it to you.”

Turning his head, Sam captured Harry’s mouth and pressed a second finger in beside the first. Time became lost in a haze of rocking, thrusting motions. In vigorous, sensuous exploration. A wealth of emotion swelled within him and he pulled back and opened his eyes to gaze into Sam’s. 

They seemed to be eclipsed by green, likely with lust, as Harry watched him swallow as he leant back against the edge of the bath. Harry slowed his movements and changed his grip where he held them to only be holding Sam. The widening in Sam’s eyes showed his comprehension and his voice―while quiet―seemed to echo in the confines of the bathroom. 

“You’re ready? You sure?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he replied breathlessly. 

Sam’s fingers withdrew, and Harry knelt up, positioning himself above Sam’s cock, he sank down. His eyes closed and he groaned as Sam filled him. His cock was thick; and long. Sam’s hands tightened sporadically on his hips until finally, Harry came to rest against his thighs. 

“Holy… fuck.” Sam murmured.

Harry merely clenched in reply, pulling a deep guttural groan from Sam. He rested his head against Sam’s, breathing shallowly as he allowed himself time to adjust. 

“Sam,” he said quietly, “Sam, I need to move…”

Sam nodded and Harry began to rock his hips slowly back and forth. Adjusting for the angle and then picking up speed. He cried out sharply as the head of Sam’s cock brushed against his prostate and his fingers clenched around Sam’s arms.

Large hands slid firmly along his body from Harry’s hips to his arse, holding him tightly as he helped maintain a rhythm. The water began to slosh around them as they surged together. Their lips caught occasionally, chasing fevered kisses each time Harry’s hips dived to take Sam in. Chasing him deeper and deeper. 

A surge of desire so acute swamped him. Setting his nerves, his every part of being aflame. 

“Sam.” he panted, not knowing what he wanted―what he _needed―_ to say. 

Sam seemed to understand though, as he nodded and lifted one hand to wind it in Harry’s hair, pulling him down into a messy kiss.

“I’m close,” Harry said, between pants. 

“Oh, thank god,” Sam replied. “I am too.” 

Harry groaned into his mouth, his hips snapping with a little more energy, a little more force. He became breathtakingly aware of every second, of every slip of their hands, their bodies... 

A deep primitive tug inside him signalled his climax and it consumed him. It engulfed his emotions and set flame to his fevered skin. His fingers tightened into a bruising grip and Sam’s hold on him seemed endless as he thrust up once, twice and came silently, his mouth pressed against the curve of Harry’s jaw.

Sated relief flooded Harry’s body and he slumped against Sam. A sudden crashing and tinkling echoed in the bathroom and Harry looked around to see many of his possessions scattered around the room. The glasses they had been drinking from shattered and their clothes were strewn all over the place. 

“Er…” Harry started, “probably should have used a sticking charm.”

Sam tipped his head back and laughed. 

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

_...Legs entangled with his from behind, and a slow solid thrust sent him arcing into the sheets…_

_...Sam’s smirk as he disappeared beneath the covers only to engulf Harry’s cock would be the death of him. He was sure of it…_

_…“I don’t want to get up” Harry murmured against Sam’s shoulder. Sam rolled over to take Harry in his arms. “Then we won’t”..._

_..their lips fused together in a heated kiss and with a roll of his hips, their passion ignited once more…_

_...he dragged his mouth across the planes of Sam’s stomach, cataloguing each scar, every mark, and every dimple…_

_...warm hands covered his in the shower and Sam’s head dipped down to trail kisses along his neck. His firm length pressed against the swell of Harry’s arse and it was all he could do to lift his leg and press himself against the wall even as Sam pressed inside…_

_...an open mouth laved wet kisses up his calves, over his thighs, and across the swell of his arse. A hotter tongue pressed into the crease and hands pried his cheeks apart. Harry mewled as Sam’s tongue flicked across his well-used arse…_

_...“It’s been four days. Should we actually leave the room you think?” Sam asked. Harry rolled them over and sank down onto Sam’s cock. “Maybe tomorrow?” Sam nodded hastily. “Yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow’s good.”..._

_...frenzied hands gripped his hair the midst of the night. And as his head bobbed, Harry was overcome with a sense of wholeness…_

_... the muscles in his legs flexed beneath long-fingered hands as he slowly rode Sam’s cock, his orgasm building within him lazily…_

_...Harry woke slowly after an hour, still half asleep, he shifted his hips and felt the tip of Sam’s firm flesh still pressed inside him. Moaning softly, he rocked back and felt it press further inside…_

_...his fingers trailed along Sam’s back, tracing every dip and curve. Sam’s head turned to face him… ‘up for another round?’ Harry’s reply was to smile and press a kiss to Sam’s shoulder..._

_...feathery strokes of Sam’s tongue behind his ear matched the light caress of his hand on Harry’s cock, the slow thrust, and even slower pull tortured Harry and drew his pleasure out…_

~*~*~*~*~ Harry&Sam ~*~*~*~*~

They fell back onto the bed, side by side as they panted, breathless from their latest efforts. 

“How do people keep this up for seven months?” Sam asked, “Hell. Even seven weeks?” 

Harry’s laugh was more forced huffs of air than anything else. “To be fair, I don’t think they go all day every day.”

“True,” Sam said, turning his head to grin in Harry’s direction. “We have to get up today don’t we?” 

Harry groaned at the thought. “Probably, it’s been eight days since the wedding. They’ll probably start knocking now if we don’t.”

“God, I can only imagine what Dean’s gonna say,” Sam said with a sigh. 

“Just tell him you’ve been getting to know your husband in _all_ the good ways.” Harry waggled his eyebrows at Sam, and he laughed. “He won’t be able to tease you if you show him how much you enjoyed it.” 

Sam snorted. “Maybe you’re right.”

Harry stretched in the bed, the sheets shifting enough to expose his happy trail and he saw Sam’s eyes wander over his stomach. He knew that look. 

“Thank the gods for magic, right?” Harry asked.

Humming distractedly Sam shifted and reached once more for Harry. Harry allowed himself to be pulled over top of Sam. 

“I mean, this place would be a mess… and there’s no way I could have taken you so much this week without it.”

Sam’s hands ghosted over the swell of his arse, cupping his cheeks firmly, he pulled him up higher so that their cocks brushed together. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Harry smiled softly at the genuine concern. 

“Empty…” he said leadingly.

Sam grinned. “Maybe I can do something about that.”

Harry cocked his eyebrow. “Maybe you should.”

They began to kiss, and Harry was just growing hard again when they were interrupted by a loud pounding on the door. 

“SAM! Come on, man. It’s been over a week! Isn’t it sore already?”

Harry dropped his head against Sam’s.

“Can I kill your brother?”

“Get in line,” Sam muttered. He pressed a kiss to Harry’s lips and then reluctantly, they sat up. “Give me a minute, Dean!” 

“Well, Hallelujah! He’s alive after all! You got five minutes.”

They heard Dean’s footsteps fade away from the door. 

“I guess it’s time to go back to the real world, huh?” Harry asked, standing up and stretching. 

“This bubble of time has been nice though,” Sam said. “And not just for all the sex.”

Harry grinned, there had been _a lot_ of sex. But there had also been a lot of tender moments. A lot of listening. Sharing. Talking. They hadn’t divulged everything to one another, there was so much after all. For both of them. But Harry knew they each had a much deeper understanding of one another now. 

“Think we have time for a shower though?” he asked, knowing there was a glint in his eye as he looked at Sam.

Sam grinned. “Oh, definitely, in fact, it would be pretty terrible of us if we _didn’t_ shower before we went out there.” 

Harry started to make his way toward the bathroom. “I might need some help getting to those hard to reach places… Maybe we should shower together…”

“It _would_ save time.” Sam agreed. 

In the end, they didn’t save anytime at all. In fact, they were forty minutes overdue on Dean’s imposed deadline. But neither of them could find it in themselves to care very much. 

FIN

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For now...

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all love and enjoyed!! Comments and kudos are loved and appreciated!!!
> 
> Love and Muses!!  
> ArielSakura

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Harry's upset with Sam](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281707) by [00Q_Magnus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Q_Magnus/pseuds/00Q_Magnus)




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